Retribution
by Kodachrome
Summary: Hiding behind a false sense of hope, everyone, except for Matt, believed 'he' was gone for good. Months later, paranoia begins to resurface, as Matt's suspicions become a reality. Behold my sequel to 'Vengeance.' ( contains hints of Takari & Masasuko. )
1. Ch1

A/N: Greetings! Yup, I know I haven't posted anything in a while, so here's the first chapter to my sequel to 'Vengeance'. Muchas Gracias to Sailormoonshadow for all her help! ^_^ I really hope this one lives up to its predecessor and BTW, if you haven't read the first one, I recommend that you should, otherwise you'll be totally lost as far as the plot goes.

Disclaimer: yeah, yeah, yeah I don't own Digimon.

Rating: For now, this chapter is rated G, but that probably won't stay the same throughout the story. *shrugs*

Radiant shafts of morning light cascaded through Takeru Takaishi's bedroom window, as the golden haired child of Hope rolled over onto his side, moaning slightly.

"T.K.!" a feminine voice called out to him, "Are you up yet?"

Takeru instantly recognized his mother's voice and responded with an inaudible grunt as he turned onto his stomach and buried his face into the soft, welcoming embrace of his pillow.

A faint gurgling noise emanating from the boy's stomach caught his attention and his muscles tensed, trying to hold back convulsions. For two days he had to endure the waves of nausea that constantly plagued him. He wasn't sure exactly what his body was trying to reject, since he had abandoned the notion of food for the duration of his ailment.

"You'll be late for school!" his mother reminded as she strolled down the hall towards his room.

He could hear the footsteps approaching and his head pounded with each step, even though her footfalls were faint.  He squeezed his eyes shut, tightly clutching his pillow.

Today was finals. He couldn't miss that, he thought, fighting back the slight headache, as he slid his comforter off and prepared for his journey to the dresser.

Come on Takeru, you can do this, his mind encouraged. If mom sees you still lying in bed she'll do one of two things. Begin her hour-long lecture about how important school is, making you undoubtedly late for said subject of importance, or she'll break out the thermometer and force you to stay home for the remainder of the day. In either case, you'll miss your finals.

Slowly the boy arose, his frail form trembling uncontrollably. Placing two socked feet on the floor, he willed his legs to move forward, but it appeared as though his limbs refused to cooperate. T.K. was barely able to keep his eyes open, let alone stand, and soon he found himself sitting on the corner of his bed, his arms wrapped tightly around his midsection as he sank forward, resting his upper body in his lap.

Nancy reached the door and carefully pushed it open, peering inside.

"Almost ready?" she asked, expecting her son to at least be fully dressed, but instead he sat still clad in his nightclothes, quietly dozing off on the edge of his bed.

"Takeru!" his mother snapped, placing her hands on her hips.

T.K.'s eyes immediately shot open as he bolted upright, promptly wishing he hadn't, for his temples began to throb and he had to grit his teeth to withstand the oncoming pain.

"I want you dressed and ready for school in fifteen minutes," Nancy instructed before turning on her heel and shutting the door, a tinge of worry and motherly concern nagged at the back of her mind.

T.K. slumped back down into his former position. A small voice in the back of his mind chided him for not informing his mother of his condition. He had begun to wish that he had stayed in bed, and that his mother would rush in any minute bearing a thermometer, aspirin, and various other medical paraphernalia that would not help him in the least, but would ensure him a day off from school. No, he shook his head, besides that his brother had a concert tonight, and all the digidestined were invited, even Mimi, who had flown in the week prior. In America, they were already on their summer vacation, and the pink haired girl had begged her parents for a chance to visit with her friends before the summer was through. If he backed down now, he'd miss the reunion, and then what would Matt and the others think of him.

With great caution, he brought himself into a standing position and hobbled over to his bureau. Lackadaisically tugging at the drawer, he reached in and retrieved a fresh pair of socks, as well as another unmentionable undergarment, and finally his turquoise colored shorts. 

A great yawn escaped his lips as he stiffly made his way towards the bathroom. T.K. especially liked their new living arrangements, primarily because he had the luxury of his own bathroom. The young boy shuddered slightly as he recalled the events that led them to relocate once again. Almost a year had gone by since a man known to them only as Murphy had abducted him and his brother. His mother feared that remaining at their former residence would invite further danger and sought a new apartment immediately after they had returned home from the hospital following the string of events. 

It had been quiet for over seven months now, and T.K. felt safe, despite the fact that Murphy's body had never been recovered. The police reports claimed that all the occupants of the vehicle had been incinerated, leaving behind no remains. Maybe he was hiding behind false hope, but it was that hope that kept him from going over the deep end. The first few months proved rather difficult to adjust to, as he would glance over his shoulder every few seconds, sure that someone would be there, and feeling no more relieved when he discovered no one was there and paranoia had begun to set in.

It gradually got better. The nightmares were the worst of it. So many times he would wake in the night, frantically dialing his brother's cell phone. As always, Matt would answer, his voice barely above a whisper, as it was probably the third or fourth time that night he had been awaken and he had gotten accustomed to speaking to T.K. with an ever constant, soothing voice. Once his brother served his part and seemingly chased all the bad thoughts from his mind, he would fall back into a troubled sleep. If Matt were lucky, he'd hold out till morning, however, usually within a half hour his phone would ring again, as if it were T.K.'s personal distress signal. T.K. attempted to push the dreadful thoughts from his mind. Murphy was gone and that was that.

His mind, much like the rest of his body that morning, decided to be uncooperative as thoughts of his brother drifted to the surface. Matt, either being less gullible or more stubborn chose not to believe the police reports. Even after they had determined, that the knife embedded in the wall of his apartment complex had not been Murphy's, for the fingerprints did not match up, Matt still refused to acknowledge their findings. He laughed when they claimed it was probably some prank devised by a 'punk kid' since the story had gone public. T.K. tried once again not to think back on these past occurrences.

This time his efforts seemed to pay off. He set his clothes off to the side and resting his palms on the countertop of the sink gazed into the mirror, ready to get back to the matter at hand. This wouldn't do. Even he could tell he looked ill. His face had taken on a sickly pallor and his eyes that were always full of spirit, appeared to be drained of life. 

Running an unsteady hand through his mussed up bed hair, he turned on the faucet, allowing the water to create steam before he thrust his hands underneath the flow of warm running fluid. Scooping up a handful of the tepid liquid, he splashed it into his face.

The water instantly brought color to his cheeks. Reaching back, he blindly swiped at a hand towel as he turned the tap off. His hand finally met with the familiar terry cloth and he lightly patted his face with it.

Blinking a few times, he brought his gaze back to the mirror. At least he looked somewhat better, though he did not feel it.

After slipping into his new clothes, T.K. ambled over to his closet and retrieved his trademark blue and yellow long sleeved shirt.

"Ready?" his mother chirped from the doorway. T.K. jumped at the sound, his stomach performing a series of flip-flops as he did.

"Just about." He said back, trying to sound as cheerful and healthy as possible, thankful his mother didn't catch the disturbing look on his face while he pulled his shirt over his head.

Nancy waited patiently in the doorway, holding a light brown sack. Noticing that he still had an audience, the blonde quickly gathered up his school books and hurried toward the door.

"Here." Nancy stated handing him the bag.

"Oh thanks Mom, but I already packed a lunch." T.K. said, rather confused.

"This isn't lunch, this is your breakfast." Nancy replied, "You won't have time to eat here, you'll be late. Maybe if you had gotten up on time…" she began to rattle off. T.K. took the cue and grabbed the bag from his mother, planting a light kiss on her cheek as he rushed into the kitchen to fetch his lunch.

Just as he had reached the threshold a coughing fit came on. His eyes filled with panic, as he tried desperately to stifle the incriminating noise. Nancy stepped into the kitchen right as he got his illness under control.

Tapping her index finger on her chin, she gave the boy a look that contained a great degree of suspicion.

"Something's wrong here." She said staring into his crystal blue orbs after studying him over for what seemed like hours to T.K, but in actuality had only been mere seconds.

T.K. clutched his books to his side and bit down on his lower lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, but not quite. Worry was written all over his features, as he feared that she had discovered the truth. Something had given it away he thought, judging by her scrutiny.

"Are you feeling alright?" she inquired, folding her arms across her chest, as T.K. drew in a deep breath, feeling very uneasy.

The jig was up he thought, as his mind raced with a million excuses concerning why he should be permitted to attend school that day, the foremost reason that stuck out in his mind was that if he were well enough to go to school, he was well enough to go to Matt's concert.

"You know you forgot your hat," she continued, smiling brightly.

T.K. expelled the breath he had been holding as relief flooded over his face, he dropped the brown sack she had given him onto the table along with his books.

"My hat? Right!" the boy laughed nervously as he whirled around to get it. The sudden motion brought on a wave of dizziness.

Nancy watched curiously as he stumbled down the hall, nearly toppling over as he rounded the corner into his room.

T.K. emerged from his bedroom, his white fishermen's hat adorning his mess of blonde locks.

"That's more like it," his mom smiled. "Better hurry." She added, as she headed back down the hall to finish preparing for work.

T.K. grabbed his lunch off the counter and stuffed it into the backpack lying in the corner near the door.

"Don't forget breakfast!" Nancy called.

T.K. rolled his eyes and wandered back to the table. He shoved his books into the backpack and snatched the bag up, eyeing it with contempt as if it had wronged him somehow.

In truth, he was frustrated because he wished he could eat it, but his stomach advised otherwise.

A forlorn sigh found its way past his lips and he hoisted his pack over his shoulder and started for the door. Slipping his shoes on, he reached for the doorknob, taking one last glance over his shoulder towards the hallway. He could feel his bed beckoning to him, but instead he gave a loud grunt of determination and firmly pulled the door shut on his way out.

The walk to school proved more difficult of a task than the teen had originally anticipated, as it seemed he had to use the majority of his strength just to overcome one block.

Holding the brown paper bag tightly, he cast his head toward the pavement and trudged on, all the while being consumed by waves of nausea and dizzy spells. He had been so concerned with how to take each step, avoiding any sudden motion that might throw him that he scarcely noticed when a spiky haired brunette sauntered up beside him.

"Hey T.A.!" Davis said, walking carelessly with his hands behind his head.

T.K. blinked, his glum expression turning to face his fellow digidestined.

"Hi Davis." He managed, in a low monotone voice. If one hadn't been paying attention they would have mistaken him for his brother, such was the depressed demeanor that was evident in his voice.

"Whatsa matter?" Davis queried, cocking his head to the side. "Man you look awful, you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning or something?" the boy asked in both curiosity and concern. 

"Um…I'm just tired, you know. Studying for finals and all. I had a late night cram session." T.K. lied, in truth he had gone to bed rather early the night prior, as he couldn't even stomach the dinner that his mother had placed before him at the kitchen table. When her back was turned, he had scraped the contents of the plate into the garbage disposal.

"So, whatcha doin' this weekend? It's like the first official weekend of summer. You gotta have something planned." Davis said, in his usual demanding tone of annoyance.

"Well," T.K. said, swallowing back the urge to vomit, "Matt's having a concert tonight, and the original digidestined are getting together for a reunion."

"Man, didn't you just have one of those?" the brunette recalled absent-mindedly. 

"Yeah, but that was months ago. And none of us has seen Mimi since, and Joe's been very busy too."

"Oh, well you and Kari are gonna miss some fun! Yolei, Ken, Cody, and I are going to camp out on the beach. It's gonna be awesome!" Davis chirped, clenching his fists for emphasis.

T.K.'s attention span to Davis' rambling began to dwindle, and it wasn't long before the boy was concentrating more on the cement than to the babbling brunette.

"Hello! Earth to T.K.!!" Davis flailed his arms in the air in front of the blonde, trying to re-establish the conversation between the two that he finally realized he had evidently been holding with himself.

"Huh?" T.K. blinked, "I'm sorry, you were saying?" the bearer of Hope tried to cover up the fact that he hadn't listened to a single word Davis had uttered since he told him about the beach.

"I asked what was in the bag?" Davis said, stopping in front of the boy and placing his hands on his hips.

"Oh this," T.K. indicated, holding the brown sack up, "My mom made me breakfast this morning, but I didn't have time to eat it." T.K. had forgotten he had been carrying the item in question, and was contemplating tossing it in the trash, but decided to relinquish its contents to Davis instead.

"You can have it if you want, I'm not very hungry." The blonde said, handing the bag to Davis, who eagerly snatched it up and began to devour the food inside.

"Mmm…your mom's a good cook!" he mumbled, with a mouth half filled with food.

T.K. sighed and wished their trip would be over soon, so he could sit back and relax at his desk and wait for their tests to be handed out. The sooner this day was through with, the better. Maybe he would feel well later on, at Matt's concert, at least that is what he hoped, and he was good at hoping, sometimes it paid off.

T.K. trudged on until they reached the entrance to the school, watching as Davis crumpled the empty bag up and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. Could that boy pack it in, was the only phrase to cross his mind.

"Finally," the blonde said, his muscles relaxing. Grateful that he didn't have to walk any further than the few steps it would take to get to his class, and there he could rest, for he had begun to feel quite fatigued.

Davis glanced down at his watch. The schoolyard seemed vacant, as a sharp ringing noise echoed through the halls.

"OH NO! We're late!!" Davis cried out, grabbing T.K.'s arm and hauling him off towards their first class.

The tall, dark figure watched in the shadows eagerly. He had heard every word of their conversation and was pleased with himself. Of course he had gotten quite adept at sneaking about and remaining oblivious to his prey. He had been assigned to more or less stalk the blonde haired boy and his older brother for over a month now. He knew just about everything there was to know of the two. Where they lived, who their friends were, which classes they were enrolled in, everything down to the minutest detail. The man was good at his job, and took great pride in that fact.

Mentally taking note of his recent findings, he ducked back into the bushes and crept along the outer wall of the schoolyard, his target being T.K.'s first class of the day. 

After listening to Davis' excuse as to why they were late, their teacher finally told the two to have a seat as he rubbed his temples. T.K. only sighed and shook his head, as he took his seat next to Kari. 

"You don't look so good." The girl commented, as his eyes snapped to attention, focusing on her.

"Whatever do you mean? I feel fine." T.K. said, trying to grin.

Kari didn't buy it. She had known the boy far too long, it was almost as if she could read his features like a book.

"You should be at home. Does your mother know you came to school sick?" she queried, concern evident in her voice.

How did she know? T.K.'s mind raced with questions he already knew the answers to. Was he that obvious? Or was it just Kari? Davis hadn't taken any notice to his illness, and neither had their teacher. In fact, he was convinced his mother hadn't even suspected. Then again, Kari seemed to be more perceptive about him than most people. It was no secret they held a strong bond with one another, ever since their departure from the digital world that fateful summer.

At first T.K. took it to be the sign of a great friendship, but as the years went by the feelings he held for the brown-haired girl seemed to evolve much deeper than that of a normal familiarity. He wasn't sure whether he was too young to understand or not, but he was aiming towards the notion that he might possibly love her. As his mind contemplated this, he was harshly brought back to reality when a large hand slammed a piece of white paper down on his desk.

T.K. quickly averted his gaze from Kari to the owner of the hand that still lay on his desk.

"Ready for the final Takeru?" his teacher asked, which if one were to translate actually meant 'stop ogling the pretty girl and get to work.'

T.K. forced a smile and nodded, withdrawing a pencil from his back pack as he set to work on the test before him, all the while ignoring the pain that crept into the back of his head.

Kari was somewhat disappointed that their instructor had interrupted them. She really wanted to know how T.K. was feeling. She just knew he was ill. The brunette twirled her pencil around between her fingers and awaited her test paper, glancing over at the blonde every now and again. It was all too clear to her that he was trying to suppress some sort of pain; either that or he had come across one heck of an algebra equation.

"Eyes on your OWN paper, Miss Kamiya." Her teacher snapped, startling her. She promptly turned her stare down to the paper that now lay on her desk.

Forty agonizing minutes had passed, and the blonde had finally completed the last problem on his exam. He turned his paper in and was now sitting at his desk, eyeing the clock. He hoped the bell would ring soon, freeing him from this torture.

Leaning back in his seat he quietly stretched and began to rub the back of his neck when something caught his eye. He quickly turned towards the window, but noticed nothing was there. What had he seen? T.K. shrugged and reached down into his pack to find something to read, perhaps he would study for his next test while his body permitted, his headache had left him halfway through the exam, and he was grateful for that.

The dark man peered into the window of the classroom, instantly spotting his victim, as T.K. was the only one wearing a white hat. He was shifting into the second phase of the plan his boss had laid out for him, which consisted of playing mind games with his subject. Once he was sure he'd caught the boy's attention, he ducked back down, suppressing a small snicker as he did so. He enjoyed this part of the game, and always loved to watch his prey squirm under pressure.

Once he felt the proverbial coast was clear, he raised his head again, this time he wanted to be seen.

T.K.'s fingers began to twitch impatiently, as he ran a clammy hand over his face. He was certain he saw something, just as he was certain he could feel the walls of the classroom closing in on him.

Okay, he tried to reassure himself, there wasn't anything there, you were only imagining it Takeru, his mind told him. If you look again, there will be nothing there. T.K. wanted to confirm this to himself, hoping it would calm his nerves, but when he glanced over a second time something, or rather somebody was there.

The blonde blinked as if doing a cartoonish double take as he made eye contact with a dark haired man, whose beady, black eyes seemed to bore holes through him. T.K. gripped the sides of his desk, his nails digging into the wood as his face became flushed, and his forehead moistened from perspiration. T.K. looked about the room, wondering whether he had become delusional on account of his sickness, or whether his paranoia had returned. No one else had seemed to acknowledge the man's presence outside the window, but then again everyone seemed to be glued to their final exam.

The blonde bit down on his lower lip, his eyes locking on Kari. Surely she would have seen the man; he wasn't going crazy was he? T.K. knew if he could just get the girl's attention, she might see the man too, but currently she seemed to be immersed in her test.

He couldn't just interrupt class to confirm his suspicions, oh how he prayed for some sort of distraction at that moment. As if by some divine power, T.K. was rewarded, as Davis, who had been fiddling with his writing utensil for some fifteen minutes, managed to launch the projectile across the classroom, hitting their teacher right between the eyes.

"Davis Motomiya!" the elder man snarled, as the classroom erupted with laughter.

"Oops!" was all the boy could reply, his face glowing a crimson red, as the corners of his mouth twisted into a sheepish grin.

Perfect, T.K. thought as he leaned over to Kari.

"Quick question." He whispered, "What do you see over there?" he asked, pointing to where the dark figure stood, his face plastered to the window pane.

Kari's gaze followed T.K.'s finger. "I see a window, and some trees, and part of the school parking lot. Why?" she answered innocently.

T.K. shot a look back towards the window. He was gone. The boy's face fell in disappointment, "Nothing." He muttered, slumping down in his seat. Kari looked at him with confusion, as she couldn't tell whether his last reply was a statement or his answer to her question.

"Alright class, settle down." Their instructor's voice commanded, shaking his head at the boy he considered to be the bane of his existence.

"Sorry sir." Davis cowered, sliding himself lower in his desk. He didn't need to get into any kind of trouble on the last day of school.

"Class you have ten minutes." He reminded, checking his watch.

Kari stared at T.K. longingly. She really wished to know what was bothering the boy, besides the fact that he was sick, but their little intermission provided by Davis had cost her valuable problem solving time, as she quickly scanned her paper to find where she had left off. Her questions would have to wait till lunchtime.

As soon as the bell rang, T.K. was up and out of his seat, awkwardly shuffling towards the door as he fought past an onslaught of anxious teens.

_Have to get to a phone…_ He thought, as he clutched the sides of his achy head, anxiety building in his already troubled mind. His eyes seemed to swim in his sockets uncontrollably as he scanned the rows of faces darting to and fro. An overwhelming sense of fatigue began to gnaw at him, and he wasn't sure how long his legs would allow him to remain standing, but he knew he had to make this one phone call, it was important.

"T.K.!" Kari's distinct voice cried out over the monotonous drone of the crowd. The brunette waved her arms in the air frantically, as she jogged over to the blonde, shoving past the stampede of children.

T.K.'s eyes closed and his entire face twisted in pain, as he placed a hand on his stomach and leaned into the adjacent wall, allowing a stream of east bound students to nearly trample him.

"T.K.!" Kari huffed, as she made it through the last of the crowd, seemingly out of breath. She placed a hand on his shoulder, warmly trying to ease whatever discomfort he had, even though she knew her touch would probably do very little to aid the boy.

"I'm taking you to the nurse's office." She announced, her face full of concern for his well being.

"I'll…be…f-fine…" he managed, not sounding very convincing to even himself.

Kari threw him a cold stare, which he interpreted well enough. He knew it would be no use arguing with the determined keeper of Light, especially when she had her mind set on something.

"T.K. please," she almost sobbed, and T.K. could have sworn he caught tears welling up in her eyes. " I don't want to see you in the hospital." She murmured, as images of her past experiences with the medical facility crept into view. Kari had always been a sickly child when she was younger, and she despised that part of her past most of all.

All at once her mind was enveloped with flashes of bright lights, children screaming down sterile, white corridors, as something sharp stung her arm. She heard a small whimper and at first thought the noise had come from herself; when she glanced down to see her big brother rubbing his eyes as fresh tears cascaded down his red cheeks.

"What's wrong Tai?" she barely spoke above a whisper. "I'm sorry you have to be here, I wish you were back home playing soccer." She apologized, feeling as if her brother's tears were solely her fault.

The small boy ceased his crying and stared up at the girl laid out on the gurney in disbelief. His mouth hung open, his lower lip trembling all the while. He couldn't believe _she_ was apologizing to _him_. Without noticing, his head began to shake in disagreement. He closed his mouth and then opened it again to speak, when a large hand grabbed his wrist tightly, and he was yanked towards its owner.

Kari bowed her head, her eyes closed tightly as she squeezed down hard on the object she was holding, lost in her own memories.

"Kari! Ow! I thought you were trying to help me, not break my hand." T.K. winced, shaking his hand out as he brought it up for inspection. Five tiny crescent indentations in his palm stared back at him.

The sound of T.K.'s voice broke Kari from her flashback and she immediately apologized, wondering when she had taken his hand in her own.

Not wanting to explain herself, she grabbed the boy's arm and somewhat dragged him towards the nurse's office.

"Come on." She said, though to T.K. it sounded more like an order. The boy followed obediently, lest he lose an arm to the girl's vice like grip. Neither he nor she were aware of the two eyes that watched them from the opposite end of the hall. Another satisfied smile spread over the dark man's lips as he turned on his heel, exiting the building through a pair of double doors.

…Well, what do ya think? Total crap, huh? LOL! I'm not sure how fast chapters will go on this one, I've been trying to write a little each week. Anywho reviews would be greatly appreciated, and also this story may contain some Takari and some Masasuko, just a fair warning, but I suck at romance. ^_~


	2. Ch2

A/N: Gah! Why do I feel like this is the worst thing I've ever written? LOL! Thanks a bunch to all the reviewers; you guys are what keep me writing this garbage. ^_^ I'd like to apologize in advance, this is starting out reaaallly slow, even for me, but hopefully the action will come soon. Also like to say there won't be any set schedule for updates, as my current schedule is messed up enough as it is, and I'd hate to make empty promises. 

As far as the romance goes in here, well I'm pretty sure it won't be the main basis of the entire fic, oh no! I completely bite when it comes to that kinda stuff, but it will pop up here and there. Besides that, I'm so used to seeing romance/couples fics out there that this is one reason why I tend not to write them. No offense to any of the romance authors out there. I love a good romance story as much as the next person, but basically I'm facing the facts that I can't write them (hehe..leave that to the professionals) and also to the fact that I'm a die hard action fan. ^_^ Anywho, disclaimer, don't own Digimon, and I'll warn you ahead of time when there is a rating change on the chapters! R+R please! It encourages me, really it does! *grins*

Takeru sat impatiently on the cot in the nurse's office, as the young woman inspected his thermometer reading. His legs began to swing idly back and forth as he awaited her verdict. She had given him some pain medication for his headache, which he accepted gratefully, slugging the two pills down with one gulp of water.

"Hmmm…" she said, stroking her chin with her thumb and index finger, as if she were trying to decipher a very complex mathematical equation.

The boy cupped his hand over his mouth in an effort to stifle the yawn that was coming on. His eyelids felt somewhat heavy, and he attributed that to the lack of stimuli in the dull white walled room. Kari had been instructed to wait outside, and she chose that time to make her rounds; informing her teachers of the present situation, and agreeing to come back during lunch and after school to make up her final exams. While she was on that little quest, she decided she might as well let T.K.'s instructors know of his condition, so they wouldn't assume he ditched class.

T.K. wished Kari had been permitted to stay. At least that way he would have someone to talk to. The nurse did not appear to be much of a conversationalist.  Glancing down at his watch, he realized he had been there for over twenty minutes. At least the painkillers had kicked in, he mentally noted.

"Well, you don't have a fever, and from your symptoms I'd be willing to bet you are in the first phase of a really nasty virus." The nurse finally spoke.

"Is that it? A virus?" the blonde queried, disappointment evident in his tone.

"I'm afraid so." She nodded, " But you may want to see a doctor anyhow, my opinion isn't the gospel you know."

T.K. sighed miserably. A virus meant all he could do was wait it out, and maybe ease his suffering with some aspirin. It could be worse he shrugged, thankful a visit to the hospital would not be in order.

"I just need to record this on my chart and I'll be right back." She smiled, as she wandered out of the room.

"Great, at her pace I'll be here until Christmas." T.K. moaned. He ran his hand down the length of his face, and then brought it back up, rubbing his eyes. The blonde stopped suddenly when he noticed a telephone sitting on the nurse's desk, behind a box of tissues.

"Yeah." He grinned, hopping down from the make-shift observation table. His eyes darted from left to right as he quietly shut the door, slowly edging it close until he heard a soft click.

With nervous hands he lifted the phone from the receiver and began dialing a number all too familiar to him.

Yamato Ishida lay hunched over his desk, his head buried in his arms, so that the only thing visible that distinguished him at all was the shaggy blonde hair covering his head. He had finished his test twenty minutes early and decided to catch up on some well-needed, not to mention well-earned sleep. His band had been practicing late every night that week, unbeknownst to his father, who worked late anyway. Matt would arrive ten or fifteen minutes before his father pulled up, giving him plenty of time to kick his shoes off, toss his guitar onto the couch, change into his night clothes, and dive into bed, all before Malcolm's key twisted in the lock.

His father would have reprimanded him, advising him that studying was more important than band rehearsal, but Matt figured what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. And besides that he had aced all his classes, or at least managed to maintain a nice average, so what could his dad possibly get mad about.

Tai on the other hand was too awake to sleep and too bored to do much else about it other than doodling soccer balls on his notebook, or staring at Matt as he slept. Wondering if the boy would start snoring, or if he'd wake up in a puddle of drool. That would be entertaining, the brunette thought, a mischievous grin crossing his lips.

Taichi glanced up at the wall clock and slumped back down into his seat. One more minute before they were free! He couldn't take it. Tai Kamiya was never one for patience, and the little bit that he did possess had worn thin after the first fifteen minutes of their exam.

His chocolate brown eyes began to zone out, as he stared blankly at the blackboard. One might assume he was lost in thought, but that notion was highly unlikely in his case. A faint ringing noise caught his attention, causing him to bolt upright in his seat. His head swung side to side, attempting to locate the source of the noise, when his eyes finally rested on Matt's belt loop.

"Hey," Tai whispered, leaning in closer to his friend, all the while keeping his eyes locked on their teacher, who seemed oblivious to the ringing and Tai's pitiful attempts at whispering, as he was engulfed in one of his usual battle of wits with his computer.

"HEY!" Tai urged, this time nudging the blonde's shoulder. Matt's head slowly turned to face him, still resting atop his arms. The boy blinked a few times, his crystal blue eyes peering out from sleepy eyelids.

"Huh?" he groaned at the wild haired teen that had disturbed his slumber.

"Your phone's ringing." Tai responded, pointing to the cellular device attached to Matt's hip.

Matt pushed himself into a sitting position, a look of surprise cast over his features. Who would call him at this hour, especially while he was in class? His eyes immediately shot towards their instructor.

"Don't worry," Tai assured, "You could drop a bomb on his desk and I doubt he'd notice." The brunette snickered, as Matt reached for his phone.

Just as he had grasped the small apparatus, the intermission bell rang.

"Perfect timing," Matt smiled, raising the phone to his ear. "Hey!" he answered, as the sound of shoes shuffling across the carpet and the drone of voices caused the blonde to hold one hand over his ear to better make out the caller on the other end.

"Matt, it's T.K." the younger boy replied.

"T.K.? What's wrong?" Matt's brow furrowed. It wasn't like his brother to call during class. For a moment he feared T.K.'s anxiety attacks had returned.

"Well, I'm in the nurse's office. I wasn't feeling very good. And…" the child of Hope didn't even have time to finish as his brother sent a barrage of questions his way.

"You're sick? Since when? Does mom know? What are you doing at school? Are you okay?" Matt's eyes filled with brotherly concern as Tai patted him on the back.

"Take it easy man, you're gonna blow a gasket." Tai joked, trying to calm the bearer of Friendship.

"Whoa, slow down Matt. I'm fine; the nurse said it's just a virus. And no, I haven't told mom yet, but before you say anything I need to talk to you…at lunch. Will you come to the middle school?"

"Sure." Matt nodded eagerly, and Tai wondered if he realized that T.K. could not see him through the phone.

"You take it easy kid, okay? And I'll be there at lunch, promise." The blonde said as he hung up the phone.

"So what's up?" Tai asked his brown eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"T.K.'s sick." Matt said, as he absently ran his thumb over the smooth surface of the cell phone in his hand, believing that if he concentrated hard enough on that one task, it would somehow distract his mind from worrying too much.

"Bummer. That means he won't be able to go to your concert tonight." Tai frowned. "It won't be the same without him."

"Don't worry Tai, I'm sure he'll be feeling fine in no time," Matt said, trying to sound convincing, more to himself than to his friend.

It had taken the boy months to gain the control he now had over his emotions. The experience with Murphy had been very traumatic for him, more so than he had let on. And now his mind was in a constant state of readiness. Always prepared for one of T.K.'s nightmares, or those of his own. Something still gnawed at the back of his mind, and he just couldn't put the scar-faced man behind him. Even in his presumed death, the man still taunted him, still tormented him. Of course seeing Takeru go from a strong, happy, and healthy youth, to a paranoid, fearful, and wretched bundle of nerves had affected him greatly. As usual, he put aside his own feelings to be strong for his brother. T.K. didn't need someone to empathize with, he needed support, someone he could count on and Matt was bound and determined to be that someone, even if it meant suffering silently on his own behalf.

Tai knew his best friend was troubled; he had known the teen far too long to miss the dejected look in his eyes as he finally managed to slip his cell phone back onto the belt loop of his pants. Sometimes he wished he could get inside Matt's mind, he never quite understood what made him tick. In fact, Tai found him to be one of the most confusing persons he had ever known. It had taken him quite some time before he realized that Matt's cool exterior was just that, a façade masking his true feelings. Tai knew deep down Matt was the most sensitive of all in their group. All this was discovered during their first trip to the Digital World. Because the two were older brothers, Tai was able to relate with the blonde on many levels. Now things had changed quite considerably and Matt seemed more overbearing now than he had when T.K. was younger, except to a lesser degree since he wasn't able to control the boy's every movement, as he had been able to before. There was uneasiness about him, and Tai suspected it had something to do with this Murphy character, though he hadn't the heart to confront the blonde about it. It was quite evident by looking at his face, observing his actions for the last few months. The spirit that used to beam proudly in his eyes was now reduced to a dull glow. These were pent up emotions that even Yamato Ishida could no longer hide from the world.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Tai asked, placing a hand on Matt's shoulder.

Matt's eyes were cast towards the ground, either lost in deep thought or concentrating intently on a single grain of dirt. "No that's okay." He mumbled.

"You sure?" Tai said, peering around to face Matt. The boy currently had his back to the brunette, and it seemed like the scenery wasn't going to change for Tai as Matt stubbornly shifted so Tai could not look at his face. He was ashamed at what he might find. Deep pools of unshed tears brimmed his eyes, threatening to cascade down the boy's pale cheeks, until his eyelids swiftly beat the tears back.

Now was not the time to weep, though Yamato did remember a time when he had told Gabumon that at one point in his life, all he ever wanted to do was cry and that was when his parents broke up and he and T.K. were separated. He wished he could do so now, but not in front of Tai. Anxiety had led him to this point that was the only explanation he could surmise. 

Tai bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, until he finally smiled, guessing that Matt needed his space, and that this was something he'd have to do alone.

"Alright man, so that's settled. Let's go before we're late for our next class." Tai began to walk forward and stopped when he realized the blonde did not follow his lead. "Hey," Tai whirled around; this time making sure Matt would not avert his gaze.

The blonde flinched for a second, as though he were going to turn his head, but then his crystal blue orbs met with Tai's revealing to the brunette a pain that refused to be hidden.

Taichi sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly as he shuffled back over to his friend. This had reminded him of the time the children had been separated by Devimon. Matt's eyes possessed the same look of helplessness that they had had when Tai had him pinned to the ground with his fist pulled back ready to strike. 

"He's going to be alright." Tai reassured, "You gotta believe in your brother. He's much stronger than some nasty cold." And with that statement, he gave the boy a warm smile.

It took the determination of Courage to finally pull Friendship from total despair. Matt smiled weakly and nodded, this time sincerely. He was glad he had a friend like Tai. After all, while he was busy looking out for T.K. it was comforting to know someone was looking out for him.

"Thanks Tai." Matt muttered, still trying to reclaim his air of confidence.

"Yeah, don't mention it." Tai grinned, as the two turned to leave.

T.K. paced back and forth warily, anxiously waiting for his older brother to arrive. Matt always seemed to be fashionably late. T.K. closed his eyes and was reminded of their first encounter with Murphy. He had been waiting for his brother then as well, and after Matt finally showed up that's when 'he' came. The blonde shuddered at the thought and pushed the memory back into the nether reaches of his mind. All his pacing had begun to make him quite dizzy and so he stopped and leaned up against the chain link fence surrounding the school.

Lunch was in progress, but the boy didn't feel very much like eating. He had lost his appetite completely after the incident in his first period class. T.K. glanced down at his watch, where was Matt?

A dark figure emerged from behind one of the classroom buildings, standing completely still and quiet. He was the same person that had been disturbing the youth's fragile state of mind all day. Watching his prey intently the past fifteen minutes as he nearly wore a hole in the ground with his constant to and fro actions, the stalker felt compelled to strike at that very moment, seizing it as the perfect opportunity. The boy was alone, secluded from the rest of the student body, and no one would hear his cries for help.

A tattered old boot stepped forward, as the man shifted his weight to the other foot gradually, so as not to create too much noise. His careful approach soon turned to that of a confident swagger as he briskly picked up his pace, closing in on the boy.

Once again, T.K.'s overly charged powers of perception alerted him to a figure not far off and coming in fast. Stealing a cautious glance over his shoulder, he recognized the stranger immediately, as his heart began to pound wildly in his chest.

He started to dart forward and stopped, attempting to harness the emotions that threatened to control him.

Calm down Takeru, you're probably just imagining things again. Yeah, that's it you've been seeing things all day. You're sick, of course! Hallucinations, they're all part of the sickness, aren't they?

T.K. bit his lower lip, his brow furrowed in desperate thought. _And who said running from your hallucinations was a bad thing?_ The young blonde shrugged and shot forward as if someone had fired a gun to start a race. He sprinted down the concrete pathway that led to the front of the school. At seeing this, his stalker took off in pursuit, the sound of the man's large black boots thudding across the pavement as he followed his prey.

Reaching the edge of the path, T.K. made a sharp left and wheeled around the side of one of the classroom buildings. Slamming on the brakes, his pursuer managed to haphazardly turn the corner, nearly stumbling over the curb and onto the grass as he did.

Tearing down the hallway, T.K. suddenly realized that there were two sets of shoes echoing down the corridor. _Hallucinations do not echo!_ He told himself, the sound of the other pair of footsteps serving as an incentive to run faster.

By the time he had made it around the building and back out towards the front of the school again, the footfalls of his assailant were considerably softer, and he thought they had disappeared altogether. This did not stop the panicked teen, as he continued to run, anxious to find anyone besides the black clad figure.

A startled yelp escaped him as he turned to glance back over his shoulder and ran straight into something, or rather somebody. The impact sent both he and the other person flying backwards, but T.K. was the one who had lost the most leverage as he fell to the ground.

The blonde did not lie still for long as he pushed himself into a sitting position and blinked a few times, his vision slightly spinning as the collision had jarred him a bit.

"You…?" he croaked up at the figure standing before him, his blue eyes began to water as he dropped his head in defeat.

"T.K.?" Matt replied in a shaky voice, unsure of what to expect. After all, his brother had slammed into him going full throttle, it was evident that he had been running from someone, or something. He reached down to help the young boy up, but his offer was refused outright, as T.K. jumped to his feet and quickly scanned his surroundings. 

Was it all a figment of his imagination? Had he dreamt up the whole thing?

"Matt where have you been!?" the boy shouted, his voice cracked as it rose in volume. He clutched his chest, as his heart was still pounding fiercely.

"T.K. are you alright?" the older blonde queried, a hurt expression on his face. Matt lifted his hand and tried to place it on the younger boy's shoulder, but was slightly taken aback when his little brother shrugged off the comforting gesture.

Yamato drew his hand back as if a snake had bitten him. His deep blue eyes filled with guilt as he mentally cursed himself for not arriving sooner. Something had happened to his younger sibling, and he hadn't been there to protect him. T.K. didn't even notice his brother's forlorn look, as his eyes flew from one end of the schoolyard to the other, still not convinced that his stalker was a manifestation of his paranoia.

"Will you at least tell me what you're looking for?" Matt finally spoke, after a long period of silence between the two.

The bearer of Hope lowered his head and clenched his fists in denial. The man was there, he was gone now, perhaps Matt had scared him off, but he knew he had seen him.

"Just leave me alone!" he blurted in aggravation, as a series of coughs began. He hated this. He hated living his life in fear everyday. He hated being sick, and most of all he hated the fact that he was always forced to turn to his brother in his petty times of crisis.

Matt stood with his mouth agape, his hands slightly raised in the air as if he were preparing to fend off some sort of attack.

"Take it easy squirt…" he said, his voice calm, even though his insides felt like they were being twisted inside out. His brother had never yelled at him that way before, at least not since their time in the digital world when he was much younger, and the words hadn't stung nearly so much as they had now. Before, T.K. was a small child, and spoke out of frustration at his brother's over protectiveness, but this time it just seemed like T.K. was angry with him. Like he was disappointed in him.

"What's the matter? Was it because I was late? I'm really sorry…" the older blonde was cut off there when T.K. rushed towards him, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face into Matt's chest.

At first Matt was unsure of what to do, but his brotherly instinct soon kicked in, and he held the younger boy tightly, gently rubbing his back as his choked sobs were muffled in Matt's black shirt.

"Hey, it's alright T.K., I'm here now." He said, trying his best to set the boy's troubled mind at ease.

"I saw him! I know I saw him!" T.K. cried, pushing himself out of the embrace. His crystal blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears while the ones that had already fallen left darkened streaks in their wake, as he locked his gaze with Matt's.

"Saw who?" the older boy asked, and for a minute his heart leapt into his throat, as the face of one man in particular entered his mind.

T.K. held fast to his brother's arms even though he had backed away from the boy to be eye level with him, and he could feel Matt's muscles tense at the mention of seeing 'him.' He hadn't been referring to Murphy, but he knew Matt still believed the man was alive.

"No," T.K. shook his head, "This was somebody different. But I know I saw him, he chased me. He's been watching me all day."

"Are you sure? Has anyone else seen him?"

"Well, no…" T.K. trailed off, lowering his sight to the ground, as if he were ashamed. "I'm not going crazy!!" he pleaded to the older boy.

"I didn't say you were." Matt replied, compassion in his voice, as he stared at T.K.'s tear-stained face. 

"You do believe me…don't you?" the younger boy's voice quivered, his lower lip trembling as he awaited his brother's response.

Matt looked at him thoughtfully, coming to the decision that whether he believed the boy or not, he would have to say yes, if only to appease T.K.'s shot nerves.

"I believe you kid." He finally answered.

T.K. sniffled and swiped at his face with the back of his sleeve. "Thanks Matt." He said, a faint smile etched its way across his features.

"Come on T.K., I'll take you home. It'll be safe there and you can rest and get well." Matt forced a smile. He thought his brother had been improving, but now it seemed as though his mind was aflutter with imaginary stalkers. It would take some time to beat his fears back into submission, and Matt was willing to try. His concern for his own sanity was slim compared to that of T.K.'s and at the moment, he didn't care. Whatever it would take to help T.K. be a normal, care-free teenager again was well worth it in Matt's opinion.

"It's alright Matt. Kari promised to take me home after lunch." 

"You sure?" Matt asked, insisting that the offer still stood if he wanted to.

"I'm sure." The boy nodded, feeling oddly enough at ease that Matt had believed him. He knew his brother would never let him down.

"But what about that guy?" Matt inquired, a tinge of fear sprang to life in the back of his mind, that perhaps there was some truth to this dark figure, and now he was more concerned than ever.

"Kari will be with me." T.K. assured. He finally realized that he had been asking a lot to have Matt drop everything at the high school to run down here and chase away the boogieman, and now he felt tremendously guilty.

"Alright…" the elder sighed, he was about to issue his farewell and turn to leave, but he found himself glued to that spot. His legs had been unwilling to move. He clenched and unclenched one of his fists nervously; it was if his body would not permit him to leave. "I'll stop by after school to check on you okay?"

"That won't be necessary Matt, really." T.K. tried to convince his brother.

"Then I'll stop off after my concert. How about that?" he offered, anxiously hoping T.K. would consent, as the feeling of dread slowly crept back into his stomach. He just had to make sure his brother was alright, especially after today's events.

"Well…okay." The younger sibling finally agreed, surmising that that would be the only way to get his brother to go, even though his mind was pleading for the older boy to stay.

"Good." Matt stated, as he reached up and ruffled the younger boy's hair despite the white hat that posed as a barrier. He silently turned and shuffled back towards the high school, biting his lip in apprehension, as the urge to look over his shoulder ate away at the back of his thoughts. He shook his head. No, he had to be strong. T.K. was fine, there was no need to give in to his fears, but without any warning, he whipped his head back around and waved at his little brother, silently cursing himself for being so weak.

T.K. smiled genuinely and waved back. Matt sighed; he had been disappointed with his lack of self-control and trust, but at least he was certain that T.K. was out of harm's way.

Was that the worst chapter or what? Oh wait, you haven't read the rest of the story yet. LOL! I know, I know, maybe I'm beating myself up a little too much, but what the heck? It helps me stay focused. Hehe. 


	3. Ch3

A/N: Hey everyone! I apologize immensely for the long wait on this chapter. I didn't expect it to take this long, but between work and school I've been pretty bogged down. Thank goodness for the summer! As the semester is winding down I'm finding more time to write, so hopefully you can look forward to more stuff from me in the future! ^_^ In the meantime enjoy ch.3. I hope it doesn't disappoint, and don't worry, I'm building up to the action sequences. Also, a big thanks to sailormoonshadow for all her help, and to all the reviewers! You guys inspire me! ^_~

Rating: G, it's fair to say this is a really mild chapter. Nothing compared to what I have in store. *evil cackle*

Disclaimer: Isn't it obvious, I don't own Digimon. And really, would you want me to? Look what I've done to their wonderful characters. LOL! =)

Off in the distance, unbeknownst to either of them two dark eyes watched the brothers interact in silence. Once their conversation was complete a small smile spread across his face and he quickly darted out from behind a grove of trees, following the eldest of the two cautiously.

Matt dragged himself along in the direction of the high school. A small breeze had kicked up, engulfing his body in an odd, yet comforting warmth. It was summer after all, but faint gusts of wind were uncommon at that time of year. The blond merely shrugged at the phenomena and continued on his way, his mind clouding over with thoughts of dark shadows chasing his brother through even darker alleyways. He defiantly shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head at the thoughts.

All the while, his follower had been gaining ground on him. However, he hadn't wanted his presence to be known just yet, and kept a safe distance behind the teenager. 

As Matt drew closer to the school he paused for a moment and tilted his head at an angle, as a dog would do when it heard a mysterious noise. The figure behind him lunged into a cluster of bushes, practically giving his position away as the thorn covered foliage scratched and ripped at his clothing and skin, causing a small yelp to escape the back of his throat.

The blond knelt down near the edge of the chain link fence that encircled the schoolyard and slowly grasped a rather large stick lying in the dirt. He rose and nonchalantly swung the stick back and forth in front of him in a swatting motion. To his pursuer it almost appeared as though he were fending off a hoard of swordsmen, or hacking through an imaginary jungle brandishing a machete, but then again, he was always known for his wild imagination. Once the threat of being discovered vanished, the figure stepped out of the bushes and continued to follow the boy. 

By the time they had reached the entrance, he was thoroughly mesmerized by the stick that continued to swing from right to left and back again, until finally it flew back towards him in one mighty throw. Caught off guard, the figure tried to duck, but was too late as the projectile smacked him in the side of his cranium. Letting out a disgruntled cry, he dropped to his knees, clutching his sore head.

Matt smirked and whirled around, coming face to face with his best friend.

"You know Tai, you ought to be a little more quiet while sneaking around and following people." He stated, resting his hands on his hips proudly.

"Ow!! Hey man, that hurt!" The brunette whined, glaring up at the blond. "Besides, I thought I was doing a pretty good job until you hit me with that stick!" he retorted.

"Oh come on! I knew you were there from the time I left T.K.'s school." Matt grinned and reached down to help Tai up.

Tai took his hand somewhat gratefully and pulled himself into a standing position, still rubbing the sore spot.

"Sorry. I guess that wasn't the best thing to do, but you could have been someone else." Matt lowered his head in apology. His entire body shuddered involuntarily and he inhaled sharply gazing back up at Tai, hoping the boy hadn't noticed it.

Knowing Matt was still getting over his 'Murphy' issues, Tai pretended as though he hadn't witnessed a thing, and continued to concentrate on the pain in his head that was slowly fading. He was about to ask 'Who?' to Matt's suggestion of 'somebody else' but decided not to. Lightly tapping the area that had been hit, he winced, giving Matt enough time to recompose himself, before his chocolate brown eyes darted up just in time to see the blond sigh in relief.

"So I was concerned, that's no reason to try and kill me with a tree branch." Tai chuckled.

"You know that was far from being a tree branch!" Matt shot back in mock seriousness, before the two burst into light laughter.

Tai rolled his eyes, "Come on buddy, let's get back to school before we're late for another class."

Matt nodded and led the way, though his mind still ran rampant with thoughts of T.K.'s stalker. As always, he pushed the feeling of dread back down and covered it with his usual daily façade.

"Hey Tai," he stopped suddenly causing the brunette to barrel into him, nearly knocking them both down.

Tai blinked and stepped back trying to regain his balance. "Yeah?" he asked placing a hand on Matt's shoulder for support as his legs were still a bit wobbly.

"Uh…" he stuttered, he was never good at expressing his emotions, a side of him that remained stubborn to change. "Thanks…for, um…being concerned." Matt kicked at the ground nervously, hoping Tai wouldn't go all mushy on him.

"No prob." The other boy smiled, "What are friends for." Tai gave him the biggest, dopiest grin he could manage, causing the blonde to chuckle slightly.

"Tai, you're such a goof." He smiled in return, and they continued on their way. Tai seemed a tad daft at times, but Matt knew he could always depend on him. He was actually more intuitive than he let the world know. Even if they did share their difference of opinion every now and again, Matt could see this attribute as clear as glass.

I should have let Matt walk me home; I should have let him stay. T.K. thought as he wandered down the main corridor of the school. Kari would be getting out of her test soon and she told him to wait outside the classroom for her.

I'm such a burden to everyone, he sighed. Yet he still wished his brother were there. Ever since the incident with Murphy he had wanted to stay close to his older sibling. Being in a band, Matt was constantly in the public eye, and if that crazed lunatic were still out there…he mused, immediately dismissing the idea. Only Matt believed he still existed. T.K. had to be the strong one in that respect, even if he were breaking down emotionally, he had to force himself to believe that Murphy was dead. 

Matt had done his part. He was strong for T.K., when the boy couldn't be strong for himself. Takeru could not even begin to count all the numerous times Matt had sacrificed sleep or his personal time to come to his aid. And the elder boy was still plagued with the idea that somewhere out there, the scar-faced man lurked in the shadows ready to strike. The least he could do was try to assure Matt that Murphy was gone forever, but now he wasn't quite so sure he believed it himself.

A coughing fit caught him in mid-thought and he leaned with his back against the wall, easily sliding down it until he rested on the floor with his knees brought up to his chest. The painkillers he had taken earlier appeared to be wearing off and he silently cursed the cheap drugs.

T.K. discovered early on that whenever he was sick, he was either very apathetic or very irritable. At the moment, he was feeling the latter.

"What's taking her so long?" he wondered aloud, his fingers twitching impatiently, dreading at any moment that he might lose control of his body. It was a frightening experience, which he had become accustomed to in the past few months, as each time drew him closer and closer to an actual panic attack. That was something he did not want, and fought it persistently.

Kari finally emerged from the classroom, her smile shining brightly. She must have aced her test, T.K. thought. He gazed up at her with hollow blue orbs; she hadn't even noticed him yet. Deep within himself, he felt the butterflies rise in his stomach. It was usually a warm, tingly feeling, and Kari's smile or her sweet laughter was always the cause. Presently, the butterflies were not welcome as they only served to make him feel worse on the inside. A mixture of confused feelings and nausea swept over him and a slight whimper escaped his lips.

"Oh T.K.!" Kari chirped, "I'm sorry…I didn't notice you there. Have you been waiting long?" She said all in one breath. Her brown eyes met his and she couldn't help but feel sorry for him, he looked so pitiful sitting there by himself, a pale shadow cast over him by the only source of light that originated from the set of double doors at the end of the hall.

"I'm okay now." T.K. said barely above a whisper. Kari watched his eyes intently, they looked as though he was about to cry, but T.K. quickly blinked back the premature tears.

"Come on." She said, extending her hand to him. T.K. grasped it firmly, and was slightly embarrassed when Kari had to use most of her strength to pull him to his feet. He hadn't thought he was that weak on account of his ailment.

"Let's go." This time she forced a smile to surface, even though her voice betrayed her. It was shaky and awkward, much like the way T.K. was walking. She placed a hand on his back to steady him. His muscles tightened at the touch, but soon slowly contracted and relaxed as he got used to the feeling of her hand on his backside.

"Once we get you home, I'll make you some soup. You haven't eaten all day, have you?" she queried, knowing all too well he hadn't.

T.K. nodded and allowed himself to be led out the set of double doors.

"Wait!" Kari cried out, "I forgot something, I'll be right back." She assured, leaving T.K. by himself, as she dashed back into the building. True to her word, Kari was back outside again within seconds.

"I forgot my palmtop." She grinned sheepishly, holding the device up for him to see. "I'm going to say hi to our digimon later. I'm sure you'd love to talk to Patamon for a few minutes too."

Patamon? T.K. hadn't even thought of the small bat-like creature for a week or so. He had been too busy trying to tame his emotions all that week.

"Yeah, it'll be nice to talk to Patamon. And maybe I can say hi to the other digimon as well. I'm sure Gabumon would like to know how Matt is doing, I don't think my brother has really had time to talk to him in ages." As T.K. pondered this, he was also wondering if Matt had told Gabumon about their encounter with Murphy. He hadn't told Patamon for obvious reasons; one being he hadn't wanted the little guy to worry about him, and another reason was because he knew he would probably beat himself up about it for not being there when T.K. needed him most.

In fact they had made all the Chosen Children take an oath to not say anything to their digimon until they felt the time was right. T.K. didn't know when or if the time would ever be appropriate.

"T.K.?" Kari's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, yes Kari?" he mumbled almost incoherently.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" the question was so honest and sincere, and of course full of concern, but T.K. hadn't wanted to answer it. He wanted to lie to her and say nothing, but he just couldn't bring himself to lie to Kari.

"I was thinking about Patamon…and well…whether I should tell him or not." The blonde finally summoned the courage to admit this to the girl.

"Tell him what?" Kari inquired, assuming he was referring to Murphy. However, she avoided the mention of it, for fear he was talking about something completely different. She hadn't wished to invoke old memories that would cause the boy any more turmoil than he was already experiencing.

"About…what happened with Matt and me." he choked.

"I know he'd understand." Kari rubbed his back gently.

"I know he would…but I don't know if he would be upset with me for not telling him right away." T.K. squeezed his eyes shut, letting Kari lead him blindly down the sidewalk. So many conflicting emotions, why couldn't he get over that incident and move on with his life?

"T.K. I'm sure if you explained it to him he wouldn't be mad at you. Of course he's going to be a little upset, he's your digimon after all. Besides you're safe now." The girl spoke gently.

The blonde gritted his teeth at her last statement. He wished he could believe her, but his instincts would not allow it. Maybe Matt had been right along.

Had the two teenagers been paying closer attention to their surroundings, they would have noticed the large gray car slowly rolling up behind them. A pair of dark eyes watched them intently, but this time, these were not Taichi's.

Malcolm Ishida quickly glanced down at his wristwatch. It was a quarter to noon and he desperately wanted to finish his shoot before lunch.

"Almost ready?" he called to his cameraman, who was fumbling with his equipment.

"Just about," the young man answered, adjusting the camera lens, as he peered through the eyepiece.

Malcolm gazed up at the tall structure before him. A large, gray building lined with barbed wire fences, four watch towers, and hundreds of tiny, barred windows, all vacant. This coming weekend, it would be no longer. 

The older man reached into the pocket of his slacks and fingered the small box of cigarettes contained therein. The longer they stood outside the condemned Odaiba Maximum Security Prison, the more anxious he got. He was glad the city had finally decided to do away with the old prison as it had been sometime since all the prisoners were relocated to a penitentiary farther north.

Matt and T.K. hadn't been the only ones affected by the incident with Murphy, and now Malcolm stood just outside of the place where the scar-faced man had been held while serving his sentence. Malcolm remembered it all too well, as sudden flashbacks of the incident entered his mind. Three prominent images tormented him night and day. Matt, T.K., and Murphy's knife always intertwined with one another. He would never have a dream where it was just Matt or just T.K., no the knife would always manifest itself. Malcolm couldn't rip these pictures from his mind.

Just like his eldest son, he too had been concerned with the detail that Murphy could very well still be alive. As a news reporter he had been trained to go by the facts, and the fact of the matter was, Murphy's body was never found among the remains of the crash. This gave Malcolm all the suspicion he needed to conclude that the possibility of the gangster's return was not to be ruled out just yet.

Finally giving in to his addiction, Malcolm slipped his fingers inside the packet of cigarettes and pulled one of the cylindrical objects out. From his other pocket he produced a lighter, and as he gazed at the police tape blocking off the perimeter, he lit up.

Taking in a long, slow drag he closed his eyes. Soon the prison would be one memory he would no longer have to deal with. The demolitions crew had already rigged the explosives for the upcoming implosion, and it would only be a matter of days before it was wiped clean from the earth.

One might ask why Murphy would be sent to a maximum-security prison, when he was convicted of money laundering. Both Malcolm and Nancy knew the truth, but hadn't wished to enlighten their sons with it. Murphy had done far more despicable deeds than he was proven guilty of. He had been accused of several murders, nearly fifty acts of arson, as well as a number of robberies and kidnappings. The only problem was the lack of evidence that would connect him with these crimes. Throughout the years he had been very thorough in covering his tracks, that is, until Malcolm decided to cooperate with the police to finally nail him. That was probably what aggravated the convict the most, Malcolm surmised. After all those years of evading the police, a young hotshot reporter, fresh out of college, had brought him down. Not to mention a rookie journalist.

At the thought of Nancy, the man wondered whether she had the same worries and fears he now possessed. Every night upon returning home, he made sure to verify that his son was in his room. He would also check on the boy more frequently via cell phone, especially after any concerts. T.K. was a different matter entirely. Because the family no longer lived under one roof he could not keep a close eye on his youngest son, but he was aware that the boy constantly kept in touch with Matt, so he had less to worry about there.

Still, he was gravely concerned for the well being of both his sons, as they had not been themselves since the kidnapping. Neither really went out much, except when there was school, or Matt had rehearsal with his band. In fact the only time he would go out was if he had a group of friends with him. The same went for T.K. It was a struggle for them both, and Malcolm had been amazed with the strong bond they held between them. He was aware that the event had been traumatizing to them, and despite their mother's constant efforts, both refused to see a psychiatrist, as they depended on one another for guidance and support. In a way, Malcolm felt guilty that they had not come to him or Nancy for support, but then he figured that the divorce might have had something to do with their decision. He knew it had been selfish on their part to separate the two, so they probably did not hold much faith in him or Nancy as far as the matter went.

His life had been filled with many regrettable decisions, but he could not pine over them now. His family was once again safe, and he had to take some comfort in that. The healing process was slow, as it was for all the Ishida/Takaishi family, but it was progressing nonetheless.

"Alright sir, we're ready to roll!" the cameraman announced, breaking Malcolm from his thoughts.

"Okay," the older man answered, stubbing out his cigarette on the white sign attached to the chain link fence that read 'condemned'. "Let's get this wrapped up." Malcolm said, adjusting his tie, as he pulled his microphone from where it had been resting in his back pocket  

It had only taken them a few tries before they managed a perfect take, and Malcolm was satisfied. The first shot, Malcolm had realized the lens cap was still in place, and in the second, he dropped his microphone. By the third shot, the cameraman had to inform the reporter that the news wasn't all he was revealing to the world, earning a slight blush from the elder man as he zipped the fly up on his pants. The fourth and final shot was the best, without any mishaps. The two congratulated each other as they began to load the equipment back into the van.

As everything had been packed away, Malcolm went to shut the vehicle door, when a soft noise caught his attention. Turning his head, he carefully scanned the area. He was sure he had heard something, and nearly leapt back in surprise when his eyes fell upon the source of the faint laughter standing only a few feet away.

"Hello Malcolm." The young woman greeted, her hand covering her mouth, as she poorly tried to hide a smirk.

"Nancy?" the reporter blinked, feeling inclined to rub his eyes, as he was sure this was some sort of hallucination.

"I was watching you cover the story." She muttered. "My editor sent me to take some pictures, but I didn't know I'd find you here."

"I thought you were working in the archives now, you know researching past articles related to police investigations. Since when are you a photographer?" Malcolm asked casually, wondering exactly how long she had been standing there. From the looks of it, he considered just long enough to catch his fly fiasco.

"Well, my boss decided I needed some fresh air, so he sent me out on assignment. Luckily, I only have to get some pictures of the old place before they demolish it." she said, averting her eyes to the foreboding structure.

"I see." Malcolm nodded, as he turned on his heel to leave. He felt very awkward at the moment, having seen his ex-wife for the first time in weeks. They had talked very little since the incident, which greatly surprised the reporter. He thought that it had brought them closer together, but as soon as things were slightly back to normal, everything that had happened between them during those days and nights of worry had disappeared.

"Malcolm wait…" Nancy said, her voice sounding very small and helpless at that moment.

The brunette slowly turned his head, catching Nancy's beautiful blue eyes in his own. She looked so desperate, as her eyes seemed to shimmer with what appeared to be tears, but Malcolm couldn't be altogether sure, nor did he wish to make assumptions.

"Yes?" he asked in a quiet voice, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"I thought…well…since you're here…"she stuttered through the words, it was apparent she was about to ask him something, but couldn't seem to spit it out. "Would you mind if we had lunch together?" she finally asked timidly.

Malcolm glanced over to his cameraman who nodded his head in approval. "I'll turn this in to the station, no worries, it'll look great!" the younger man smiled, as he hopped into the driver's side of the van.

"I'd like that." Malcolm said turning his full attention back to the woman, as the sound of the van's motor turning over caused a silence to fall between the two.

Nancy tried to hide her relieved smile, but was unsuccessful. Malcolm noted this, realizing that there was more to her simple invitation than just lunch. He would soon find out what her true intentions were. Part of him figured a long drawn out discussion was in store, while the other part was thankful for her company. At least now he'd have someone to confide his deepest fears to.

AYE! No cliffhanger here! Well I don't think so anyway. Aren't you sad? LOL! R+R por favor. ^_^


	4. Ch4

A/N:  I bet I know what you all are thinking…it's about damn time! LOL! Well here it is! ^_^ Warning: Masasuko ahead, mixed w/ a little Yama angst, and not too nasty of a cliffhanger. I've done far worse w/ those things. I apologize in advance if this is the worst piece you've ever read.

BTW, hope you all caught the last chapter of **sailormoonshadow's** fic 'By the Power of the Stars' and **Hell's Hauntress **has a new one as well that you simply must read called 'A Mother's Touch'. Both excellent fics! ^_^

Also special thanks to all my reviewers who wait ever so patiently w/o leaving so much as a death threat in my inbox. And to **sailor**, your help is always greatly appreciated. Thank you!

Now on to the fic! 

Yamato Ishida sat in a collapsible chair, placed in the middle of the room his band was temporarily using as a rehearsal hall. They had three hours before the beginning of their concert and were busy tuning their instruments in preparation for their upcoming performance. 

Matt absently ran his fingers up and down the fret board of his bass, his mind lost in thought. He had been practicing feverishly only mere minutes before, but now he could not push away the feelings he had been battling all day.

What if T.K. hadn't been daydreaming, and his stalker was a real flesh and blood maniac? Could he be stalking the boy at this very moment, while Matt was distracted by the obligation he had to his band?

His cell phone lay across the room, beckoning him to call his little brother. Nervously, his fingers began to twitch at the thought of phoning T.K. 

Stop it! He mentally chided, gripping the neck of his guitar tightly, as if it would appease his anxious fingers. Now the teenager couldn't tell which was worse, the fact that he was arguing with himself, or that his hands seemed to have a mind of their own.

"Dammit." He muttered under his breath as he set his guitar on the floor by his feet. Letting his arms rest on his knees, he slowly sank forward. A long, exasperated sigh escaped his lips, and his jaw set in determination. He wouldn't give in, he thought, clenching his fists.

"Hey Matt! Earth to Ishida!" his drummer called, flailing two sticks in front of the blonde's face. Matt was immediately drawn out of his trance, as he gazed up at the other boy with an irritable expression written across his face.

His band mate backed up apprehensively; if looks could kill he'd already be six feet under.

"Look, are you gonna practice, or are we just going to have a three hour break before the show?" the drummer almost whined. Matt was always getting on them to practice, and this was the first time any of his band mates ever caught him slacking off during a rehearsal, which meant it was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of.

"Hey man, lay off." The lead guitar player said coolly, leaning back into the only piece of normal looking furniture in the room, a small olive green couch. He pulled his guitar into his lap and began to play a twangy piece of music he had been experimenting with the entire time. They all knew what Matt had gone through, and what he still was trying to overcome. Out of all the band members though, he had been the most compassionate about the whole situation, while the other boys grew irritated with Matt's constant paranoia. Of course they were all good friends, so none of them mentioned their displeasure with Matt's attitude, and to a certain extent they were all worried for their bassist, but seven months had passed and they all felt it was time for the blonde to give it a rest and start being himself again. 

They had finally managed to break him of the habit of stopping half way through a practice set, to grab for his phone and hit speed dial. He no longer canceled band rehearsals when T.K. complained of hearing strange noises outside his bedroom window. Yes, there had been some improvement, but now it seemed as though his old habits were returning.

The keyboardist, who had remained silent throughout the length of the small confrontation, finally spoke. "Lay off? We need to get our act together, and no offense Matt, but we can't do it if you're moping around worrying about some dead guy. He's gone!" the boy stated firmly.

The blonde teenager's fists curled up into tight balls as he tried to restrain his anger. No matter what anyone said, he would never believe that man was gone until he saw it with his own eyes. Matt gritted his teeth, as the last wave of fury washed over him. Just when all of his band mates expected him to explode, his muscles relaxed and his face dropped to the floor in defeat.

This wasn't right. If he had learned anything from his experience in the digital world, it had been to choose his fights, and at the moment, he didn't need any more friction between him and his fellow band members.

"I'm sorry you guys. I don't know where my mind's been all day. Guess I'm still kinda worried. I can't help it." his voice came out small and filled with an emptiness that none of the other boys picked up on.

His friends looked at him thoughtfully, before they all nodded in unison to his apology.

"No prob Matt." The drummer smiled, "we get it."

"Shall we get back to business?" the lead guitarist said, cocking an eyebrow at his band mates.

"Right." Matt forced a smile as he retrieved his guitar from the ground, and rose from his sitting position.

Once again, all the instruments began to sing, as talented hands guided each note. They had a smooth, even paced beat going, which brought a smile to each boy's face, except for one in particular.

Usually when Matt played, it was as if a part of him had melded with the guitar. The words spoken by the instrument were his words as well. It was silly to think that one could share a bond with a musical instrument, but to Matt, the idea was no less impossible than a person becoming attached to an inanimate object, such as a car, a childhood stuffed animal, or even a piece of jewelry. 

This was not the case tonight. His fingers moved mechanically over the strings, an action that had only been possible by hours of habitual routine, allowing his mind to drift off elsewhere.

A hazy shadow cast over his usually bright blue eyes as marred images of the scar-faced man he had grown to loathe danced about in his head.  Intermittent flashes of light separated each of these images, as if lightning had come crashing down from the sky. Now he was left to view the horrific slide show as no one around him seemed to notice his trance like state.

Knives and explosions, followed by black cars and guns swirled about in his head until he thought he might scream out in frustration; that is until his brother's image came into view. T.K. was still so innocent, and undeserving of everything that he had been put through during that time. His little brother was probably at home right now, lying awake, sick and undoubtedly scared. Since that time he had always been scared.

Not scared as in the sense of a young child who was afraid of the dark, but a more extreme type of fear. One that could not be driven away by a reassuring voice, but was only capable of being defeated by the strength of the individual it had bound in its evil clutches. Before the blonde's mind could further delve into this subject, he was harshly thrown back into reality by a loud pair of cymbals crashing together, rattling his eardrums.

With a confused look on his face, Matt gazed around the room at his friends.

"You missed your cue!" one of them explained, rather ill tempered with the lead singer.

"My cue?" Matt asked, a bit puzzled, until he remembered where he was and what song they were rehearsing.

Clearing his throat, he was on the verge of yet another empty apology, when his friends headed for the door, seemingly fed up with his antics.

Matt opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the words would not come out, and when his voice finally found the words, he only managed a small whimper, which was answered by the slamming of the door. The distraught singer squeezed his eyes shut, as the harsh sound resonated off the walls.

The blonde flopped back down into the chair he had been sitting in prior to his band's mutiny. Tears of frustration crept into the corners of his eyes, as he attempted in vain to fight them back. No longer able to keep them at bay, the small droplets of liquid slivered down the length of his face. Not only had he let T.K. down, his band had also lost faith in him. He couldn't even concentrate during practice…how was he to perform in front of thousands of screaming fans if he couldn't even keep it together long enough to finish one song.

Inhaling deeply, the boy decided he had to overcome this obstacle that stood in his path, but the futility of it all was HE was the hindrance barring the way. His own obstinacy kept him from succeeding. Murphy was dead, yes, he would force himself to believe it, and after all, everyone said so, didn't they? They believed it, so why shouldn't he? 

Matt shook his head furiously; there it was again, that spark of resistance, like his memories of Murphy, refusing to die. 

Without another thought, he strode over to the window and flung the curtains that adorned them aside. Maybe a breath of fresh air would settle his nerves and relax his mind. However, instead of the dazzling sunset that should have greeted him, a cluster of foreboding clouds loomed over the skyline.

Matt furrowed his brow in confusion; this was very odd summer weather to say the least. Scratching his head, he gazed out over the dreary horizon. An expanse of dark clouds met his gaze, as they swirled over the city menacingly.

What was this? The dark masters? The blonde nearly chuckled at the silly thought, though the strange weather was reminiscent of Myotismon's fog barrier. Thinking back on the earlier events of the day, Yamato did recall that peculiar gust of wind and wondered if it had any connection with this newly forming phenomena. 

As his crystal blue orbs took in the scene, he involuntarily began to back away from the window, as if the clouds had been threatening to advance upon him. Was this an omen? His movements hadn't clearly registered in his mind until he connected with something hard, jabbing him in his side.

Matt yelped in surprise, as he barely missed bringing himself, and the table he had backed into, toppling to the ground. A small metallic device rattled across the jarred piece of furniture, and the blonde eyed the device like a hungry predator would its prey.

Biting his lower lip, he reached for the familiar object; his cell phone. His fingers fumbled nervously with the numbers, as he forced himself not to dial the ones his mind had been screaming for him to. 

Keeping his eyes locked on the eerie scene outside the window, Matt waited patiently for someone to pick up on the other line.

"Malcolm Ishida." A male voice answered. From his tone Matt could tell he was either very exhausted, or he had just interrupted something important. With slight hesitation, Matt finally answered.

"D-Dad?" he stuttered, thoroughly flustered with his poor attempts at sounding composed.

The blonde could hear a few muffled voices in the background, whether it was one person or more he could not determine, and really did not care at the moment.

"Matt?" his father queried, panic quickly ensued. "Is everything okay son? Are you alright?" the words came out a jumbled mess, but still recognizable to his eldest son.

"No, I'm fine Dad." Matt mumbled, feeling somewhat guilty at having alarmed his father. "I…I was just wondering about the weather, and well you work at the news station so I figured, you of all people would know." He started to ramble, but his father cut him short.

"What about the weather?" Malcolm asked, his voice slowly calming down to a more casual level.

Matt stole another glance out the window, just to make sure he hadn't been hallucinating.

"Doesn't it appear…odd to you?" the blonde replied, unknowingly digging his fingernails into his palm.

A shuffling noise followed and Matt could tell his father had gotten up to look outside.

"That is suspicious." He finally answered, "Hang on a sec, let me check with my weatherman."

Matt groaned lightly as a clicking noise told him his father had just put him on hold. The teenager listened with much aggravation as mind numbing elevator music replaced his father's voice. It seemed like an eternity before Malcolm finally got back on the line, for a minute Matt thought he had forgotten all about him.

"Stranger things have happened." He heard his father say to someone who sounded as though they were exiting the room.

"Dad?" the blonde perked up. The drone of the monotonous music had caused him to pull a chair up, so he could slump down over the table he was presently seated at.

"Well son, seems as though we're experiencing a freak tropical storm. These have been known to occur every now and again. It should only last the night from what the weather guy says. Still, I want you to come straight home after your concert." This last remark came in a more reprimanding tone.

Matt did not wish to argue, until he remembered he was supposed to meet with the older digidestined kids after the show. He started to protest when Malcolm cut him off with a quick 'I love you, got to go.' And then the line went dead.

The blonde stared at the small device for a few seconds before tossing it back onto the table. He pushed himself up and folded his arms across his chest.

Maybe he should call T.K. to see if he and Kari had made it home all right. The thought lingered at the edge of his mind for some time.

No, he thought to himself. They made it home fine, why wouldn't they? Yamato's eyes roamed about the room, searching for some sort of distraction, anything to take his mind off of his current thoughts. It was then he noticed a plastic black and white wall clock hanging on the far wall. The long ebony hands informed him that his concert was due to start in fifteen minutes. What had happened? It was as if the time had disappeared on him. He couldn't believe he had spent the whole of three hours worrying about whether he should call his brother or not.

With an aggravated grunt, he quickly snatched up his guitar and made his way to the door. He wasn't sure whether he was more appalled with his band mates for not coming to remind him or the fact that he had allowed himself to be consumed by the paranoia again.

Giving no more thought to the subject, he reached for the brass doorknob and began to twist it open, when a sound that he could only associate with pure terror flooded the empty room.

Matt stopped dead in his tracks as his cell phone continued to ring. A shiver ran up and down his spine at the mere sound of the device. Slowly, almost cautiously, he tilted his head over his shoulder, locking his eyes on the small apparatus. Every ring taunted him, tortured him, until he could no longer stand it.

Not this time, he thought, shaking his head regretfully, pangs of guilt already starting to sprout up and spread throughout his body, like so many weeds overtaking a small garden.

Whoever it was would have to deal with the fact that Yamato Ishida was away from his phone.

Matt pulled the door open with a little less confidence than he had hoped for and slammed it shut on his way out, completely ignoring the cries from the desperate phone. With one last glance behind him, he pushed himself down the hall towards the auditorium, hoping he had made the right decision.

Malcolm placed the phone back on the cradle gently, as he gazed up into the soft eyes of the woman he had been speaking with.

"Is he alright?" the woman asked in a concerned tone.

"Yeah." Malcolm sighed in relief and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, dabbing the sweat from his brow. "Just wondering about the strange weather."

Nancy nodded, as relief seemed to flood her system as well. "Well," she said, her voice equivalent to a squeak, "thanks for going out to lunch with me today." she finished, clearing her throat.

 Nancy began to shift and fidget, as she leaned awkwardly to one side. From the looks of it, she had been building up a farewell, but had not really looked forward to going just yet.

"I had no idea you were experiencing the same feelings as I have, and it was somewhat comforting to know." She added, attempting to prolong the conversation.

The way Nancy had been moving nervously and the hint of timidity in her voice reminded Malcolm of when he had first met her. He did have fond memories of that occasion, and alongside the birth of his children, were probably some of his most cherished moments with her. But Malcolm quickly pushed these thoughts aside, knowing it would serve him no good to bring up the past.

Nancy stood twisting her fingers nervously as Malcolm stared at her in silence. She wondered what he was thinking, as he had not replied to her last statement.

"Malcolm?" she queried, raising her hand. She briefly waved it in front of him until he finally took notice of her again.

"I'm sorry Nancy…I must have had something on my mind." He apologized, blushing slightly; in the same manner Matt was prone to, assuring everyone where the boy had inherited the reaction.

"What were you thinking of?" Nancy inquired, her eyes now sparkling with curiosity, as this became the perfect excuse to stay and talk with Malcolm longer.

"Oh…it's..it's nothing." The older man stuttered, returning his eyes to his desk.

Nancy swallowed hard, as she summoned all her courage to ask her next question.

Malcolm drummed his fingers on the desktop idly, wondering and almost dreading when Nancy would leave. Their chat at lunch had really enlightened him to how much they still had in common. They had even laughed a few times at each other's silly jokes, while regaling one another with stories of their sons. Nancy had seemed like she enjoyed herself, and Malcolm contemplated whether they would ever share a moment like that again.

Before he could utter another word to her she came straight out and spoke the idea that she had been toying with for sometime as they sat in his office.

"Would you like to go out to dinner with me?" 

After blurting this out, she immediately bit her lower lip, and expected him to laugh at her proposal, or worse yet, decline it. But Malcolm did neither. He merely sat in what appeared to be mild shock at the suggestion.

"Pardon me?" he said, his eyes blinking as if he had not heard correctly. The simple question made his heart pound wildly in his chest, comparable to that of a tribal drum.

"If you don't want to, it's alright, I won't beg you, I was just hoping we could spend a little more time together. After all the boys are at that concert, and I really don't want to go home to an empty house, and…" Nancy stopped mid-sentence as Malcolm put a hand up to silence her.

"Okay." He nodded, almost eagerly, as if he expected her to retract the invitation if he did not agree right away.

"Really?" her voice quavered for a second.

"I think that sounds like a great idea." He forced a smile, masking the reality that he had felt more nervous now than he had on their first date. The thoughts of that night swept over him, making him reminiscent of his youth.

"Well…I'm here." The young man announced to himself, letting out a nervous sigh. His hands still gripped the steering wheel, as beads of sweat slowly began to form on his brow. Malcolm stole a glance up at the apartment complex, all the while being plagued by butterflies that seemed to multiply in his stomach with each passing second.

He slowly brought his hands down into his lap and sat staring at the floorboard of his car. Brown shoes…his mind wandered, brown shoes?? How could I have worn brown shoes!? I should have gone with the black pair. And look at these slacks he chided himself mentally, picking tiny particles of lint from his pants.

This is a disaster! He shook his head in disgrace. Then his dark brown eyes caught an image in the rearview mirror. He quickly leaned over to the glove box and rummaged through it frantically in search of a comb.

What are you doing here Ishida? He asked himself, as his hands worked at a fast pace to tame the stray locks that had sprouted up like weeds. "Last time I use that brand of gel." he scowled, putting the finishing touches on his hair.

With a few final adjustments of his clothing, he finally deemed himself ready. A shaky hand succeeded in opening the car door as the exact opposite of a calm and collected man emerged onto the street.

Wait! His mind cried, causing him to whirl back around catching the car door before it slammed shut. The flowers.

Malcolm reached over to the passenger side seat and retrieved a beautiful bouquet of red roses. He had no idea which flowers were Nancy's favorite, and he hoped she would like roses. The florist had informed him that they were a sure thing.

"You can do this." he inhaled, squeezing his eyes shut as though he were wishing with all his might that he would make it to her front door.

With awkward steps, he began his ascent up the stairs leading to the building. By the time he had reached Nancy's apartment his confidence had rose greatly or at least enough to allow him to knock at her door. Maybe this wouldn't be so difficult after all he mused.

Malcolm lightly rapped on the door and waited patiently as he heard his date shuffling through her apartment.

"I'll be right there!" she called, sounding as though she had stumbled over a loose article on the floor. A few more grunts and groans later, the door swung open revealing a smiling Nancy Takaishi.

Malcolm grinned sheepishly as he took in her appearance. A little worse for wear it seemed. Her hair was a bit tousled and her dress looked like she had snagged it on something sharp.

The young girl chuckled nervously, obviously noting Malcolm's confused expression.

"Uh…tripped over the coffee table." She smiled, her eyebrows curving into nervous arches.

Malcolm gave her a blank stare, his mouth slightly agape. Despite Nancy's disheveled exterior, Malcolm thought she was the most gorgeous creature he had ever seen. Her bright blue eyes sparkled enthusiastically as she looked up at him, similar thoughts running through her own mind.

An uncomfortable silence followed as the two stood mesmerized with one another. Why hadn't I noticed this before, the two thought in unison as the quiet lingered a few seconds more. It was Malcolm who finally broke the calm, as he thrust the roses he had been holding out to her unceremoniously.

"These are for you." He said, scratching the back of his head uncertainly.

"Oh Malcolm, they're lovely." She cooed, inhaling their deep fragrance as she accepted them from him. "Let me go put them in some water." She said, dashing back into her apartment. Malcolm waited in the doorway, pulling a small handkerchief from his pocket. He dabbed at his forehead while watching Nancy scurry around her kitchen in search of a vase.

So far so good he thought, slightly relaxing. Nancy had found a suitable vase for the flowers and set them on her countertop. She returned to her date whom was leaning against the door with one arm, watching her intently.

"Thank you." She smiled, bestowing a quick peck on his cheek before she slid out the door.

Malcolm's heart skipped a beat at the subtle display of gratitude, as he turned in a stupor nearly stumbling over his own feet. The mere brush of her lips was enough to send the man into a psychosomatic fit, had his mind not melted into a harmless puddle as a result. A faint trace of crimson etched its way across his features, as he placed a hand over his face to conceal his flushed appearance.

"Just need to lock the door." Nancy said digging through her purse until she produced a small set of keys. Her search finally came up fruitful as she twisted the key in the lock with little effort and spun back around to face Malcolm.

"Shall we be off?" she asked, intertwining her arm with his.

"Right." Malcolm nodded, shaking off the brief sense of euphoria as he led her down the hall. 

The sky was a velvety blanket of stars that night. A light wind sang through the trees, as the crickets chirped melodiously to the sound of a calm running stream. 

Their date had been a simple matter, nothing too extravagant really, as first dates go. He and Nancy had taken in a movie; some action flick that he really couldn't remember the plot to, as his mind had been preoccupied with what to say to her during dinner.

Should he bring up business? Or would that make her mad? She had always been touchy regarding the matter, yet he scarcely could blame her. After all, he had been the cause of many a disappointment during her first assignment. 

It seemed as though Malcolm was a step ahead of her at every turn, as she desperately sought a story that would win her boss over. Perhaps there had been something alluring about the ambitious young journalist from the moment they locked eyes with one another. From that fateful day onward, he could think of no one else but Nancy. Needless to say he had been thrilled for her when she finally found a story to impress her editor, although it nearly cost both their lives to get it, and Malcolm ended up sacrificing it to her, taking no credit whatsoever in the process.

In any case, his charitable act had been rewarded tenfold when the woman that haunted his dreams called him up for a date. 

Maybe the movie would be a good subject for conversation, he mused, the only problem he saw with that was his lack of concentration throughout the picture. He could always talk about his college days, or would it be best to let her do the talking?

All this thought made Malcolm's stomach churn and he reached into the bucket of popcorn the two had been sharing. He had always been prone to snacking when he was really excited over something.

Malcolm's hand slowly crept into the popcorn bucket and immediately his muscles tensed up as he came in contact with another hand. At first he did not know how to react, then he glanced over to Nancy who was blushing madly. At first both hands retracted from one another, as both individuals decided that neither of them desired popcorn anymore.

Then somehow Nancy's hand snaked its way over to Malcolm's, squeezing it tightly. This really did confuse the young man until he looked up at the screen to see the villain chasing after the heroine of the story.

His father wasn't kidding when he had told him that he had a lot to learn about women.

Needless to say, with all his inexperience, the movie went through with no further mishap.

After the theatre, the couple proceeded to dinner, and from there they ended up strolling through the park, as their night wound itself to a close.

Malcolm wished he had been as cool and collected as Nancy, who was presently latched onto his arm, her face buried in his shoulder, but the truth was, he could not suppress the butterflies that had begun to rise in his stomach for the second time that night. Was this strange sensation love?

"Oh Malcolm…" Nancy sighed, as her eyes twinkled with the brilliance of the stars shining in them.

"Hm?" Malcolm replied, casting his gaze towards her, as she remained fixated to his arm the butterflies taking a journery from his stomach to his throat.

"Do you ever wonder about the future?" she asked as a far off look replaced the twinkle in her eyes.

"How do you mean?" he queried, a puzzled look cast over his features. Up until that point the only thing he had worried about was whether or not Nancy liked him as much as he liked her.

"You know." She said, jabbing him in the ribs lightly. "Do you ever wonder what it would be like to have a family?"

Suddenly taken aback by the notion, Malcolm succeeded in tripping over his own feet. He would have come face to face with the pavement if it hadn't been for Nancy's firm grip on his shoulder. She steadied him, as a small giggle escaped her.

"Don't you think a family is too soon?" he stuttered, his legs starting to feel like gelatin.

Nancy only smiled and shook her head. "Let's go sit down." She suggested, indicating an empty park bench as she tugged on his wrist. It was obvious to her that she had made him uncomfortable.

Malcolm took a seat next to her on the wooden bench. Sitting was a good thing, he thought, as his body began to slacken in order to get more comfortable in his seat. Nancy laced her fingers with his and the two stared up at the night sky.

"I didn't mean WE should have a family, I was just wondering what you thought about it." she whispered softly.

"Well…" Malcolm began, pausing when he noticed he had her full attention. "I was thinking it would be nice."

"That's it?" she prodded. "No details?"

"Details?" Malcolm inquired, arching an eyebrow. Truthfully, he had never given it much thought, but he could tell by the look on Nancy's face that she demanded more information.

"I do write for the newspaper." She grinned evilly. "I need to know the facts. For instance, how many children would you want?" she shrugged, as if the question held no significance.

"Oh, I don't know." Malcolm replied, as he scratched the back of his head in thought. "Two?" he stated…questioned, as if he were asking her permission.

"Two sons?" she pondered out loud, looking to Malcolm expectantly.

The brown haired man nodded, "Yeah…two sons…that would be just fine." He smiled.

"And where would we live?" Nancy mused, her deep blue eyes captivating his, as they searched for an answer.

Malcolm looked up towards the stars once again, as he considered this last question. "In our castle, in the clouds." He grinned sheepishly, hoping that wasn't too much of a clichéd answer.

He hadn't have worried. From that point on, Malcolm was unsure of who had actually instigated it, but he was sure that he enjoyed it very much, as the two embraced in a long, passionate kiss. His memory grew hazy after that. He never remembered leaving the park, though he knew he had somehow gotten home that night. All he could think about was the enormous feeling of elation he had when Nancy was in his presence…it was almost as if…she had given him wings. And he anxiously looked forward for their next encounter with one another.

Drifting back into the present, Malcolm realized that somehow, the spark of romance between the two had been rekindled, and he was not about to let that single flame die down.

Had he known Nancy's thoughts were in the same place, he probably wouldn't have been as edgy as he was, hitting his knee on the desk as he quickly rose from his seat. Wincing slightly, he hobbled over to grab his coat from where he had laid it and escorted Nancy out the door, reassuring her that his knee was all right as the two exited the office.

In the back of his mind Malcolm knew this would be a night to remember, unfortunately for him, it would also prove to be one he would undoubtedly wish to forget.

End note: Wait'll you see what I've got cooked up for the next chapter. Now the fun truly begins! Muwhahahaaa! =)


	5. Ch5

A/N:  WOW! This has been sitting around on my hard drive for nearly six months! I'm soooo sorry you guys! I apologize immensely! Hopefully I shall find my muse again soon and continue the story. I've got some great ideas for upcoming chapters and I've settled on a new plot twist. =) All of which should prove to be most exciting. Okay, in my eyes anyway, we'll see what you think when I finally do post them. Once again I thank you all for your patience…well those of you who've stuck around thus far, and also thanks to those peeps who kept prodding me for more. ^_~

Rating: Eh, not bad…I'd say this is really a mild chapter, but don't expect it to stay that way. *grins evilly*

Disclaimer:  Kodachrome does not now, nor has she ever owned Digimon, and let's be realistic here, if I were getting money for these fics you know I'd spend a heck of a lot more time writing them. LOL! Now…on with the fic!

 Grey clouds encompassed the sky driving out the light of the afternoon sun as two figures trekked down the street, one assisted by the other.

A pair of chocolate colored eyes gazed up at the threatening clouds as a warm wind tickled her face with soft tresses of her own mousy brown hair. T.K. watched in silence, secretly admiring the girl as she scrunched up her nose and swatted at the stray locks with a gloved hand. Every move she made captivated him and it was almost as if he could spend the entire day just gazing upon her radiance.

Hikari was like no other person he had met before. He couldn't quite place the emotions that welled up inside him when she was in his presence, but he knew it went further than any ordinary friendship he shared with the other digidestined children.

A great sense of responsibility had accompanied these feelings, and most of the time T.K. felt as though he had been chosen to be her guardian in life, much like Angewomon was to her now, only on more intimate levels. He could never put words to the way he felt when the child of Light laughed, brightening the entire world with her soft smile or how it crushed his heart when she would cry. T.K. never wished to see her cry, despite the fact that he treasured all of her emotions. They held a special significance to him, because like her spirit, they were raw and unbridled; purer than the most precious gemstone. He had never met someone who acted almost entirely on his or her emotions, with the exception of his brother that is.

While Tai relied on gut instinct, Izzy on theories and technology, Joe common sense, Sora logic and reason, and Mimi guided by popular belief mixed with her own definition of the term, his brother and Hikari were the only ones who seemed to allow their decisions to be made by how they felt. Even though Matt did not always display his feelings outwardly, T.K. could tell that he did spend much time contemplating them. Of course all of the digidestined children permitted their hearts to have the final say in any situation, which T.K. felt was why they were chosen to save the digital world together in the first place, but he would never reveal this idea to the other kids as he suspected they already knew it themselves.

He did not want Hikari to be tainted by the horrors of the outside world, by people like Murphy who lived to corrupt and destroy. He wished he could protect her always, but deep down he knew it would be a futile battle. She had already been exposed to so much, what with all their adventures in the digital world, and without these experiences T.K. felt she would not be the person she was today if it hadn't been for them. Likewise the same held true for him and some of his experiences he wished he could wipe clean from his mind, because the effect they had upon him was a far cry from all the positive traits Kari had acquired from hers.

At that moment his ailment decided it would not let him ponder any more on that subject, as it seemed to strike back at him tenfold. Waves of nausea washed over him, as the pain he thought had subsided gripped him once again, causing his head to spin.

T.K.'s next steps were wobbly, like those of a very young child trying to walk for the first time and his vision became blurred as he struggled for control over his own body. Without having to look at him, Kari could tell something was wrong as she felt his muscles tense along his back where her hand had been resting, supporting her friend as they walked.

"T.K.?" Kari murmured, containing the hysterics that slowly began to rise in her throat. The young blonde clutched his stomach, feebly attempting to force the pain and unwanted queasiness away.

"Maybe we ought to slow down." Kari suggested, considering the possibility that their brisk pace could have been the cause of T.K.'s recent symptoms. She had wanted to beat the impending storm, but now she was unsure of which would be worse; walking T.K. home in the rain, or hurrying him along causing minor repercussions to his health in the process.

"No…" the boy squeaked, "No..I'll be fine."

Kari's eyes flashed with concern informing T.K. that she was not entirely convinced. Within moments the blonde let out a long relieved sigh and straightened himself back up as best he could from his former hunched position.

"I'm okay now." He confirmed, giving her a weak smile.

Kari bit her lower lip and her brow furrowed with regret. Perhaps she should have called her mother and asked for a ride. T.K. did not appear to be up to the task of completing their journey back to his apartment.

"Please." T.K. whispered, his eyes pleading for her to believe him.

The child of Light closed her eyes sympathetically and nodded.

"Okay, but take it easy, we're almost there. No need to rush." She explained, placing her arm around his back and under his left shoulder in order to support him, while her other hand gently clutched his other arm.

Once again, her touch caused T.K. to tense, but within moments his body relaxed as he let her guide him to his apartment complex.

The large gray automobile that had been pursuing the two teenagers lay not far behind as it crept up the street like a snake slithering after its prey. The man behind the wheel smiled maliciously and a single gold tooth glinted from the reflecting sunlight that had somehow managed to peek out from behind the dark clouds.

It wouldn't be long now, he thought, eyes focusing in on T.K. and Kari. A small apparatus near his hip rumbled to life, and he quickly retrieved it from his belt loop. Glancing at the cell phone suspiciously, he hit the talk button.

"Yeah?" he answered in a gravelly tone.

"How are things going on your end?" a familiar voice asked.

"Everything's running smooth, just like we planned." The man confirmed.

"Excellent. I'll be waiting for you." His boss said and a click was heard on the other end. 

The stalker hit the off button on his phone and placed it back on his belt loop. A sly grin curled its way across his mouth as the car came to a stop just before a large multi-story building. He watched silently and with eager eyes as two figures made their way through the main entrance of the complex before he slowly exited the car grabbing a clip from his glove box on his way out.

A flash of lightning lit up the sky, and the man glared up at the heavens as if they were mocking him. He would not let a little rain interfere with the plan, he thought, stealing towards the apartments with the utmost stealth.

Matt quickly darted down the hall, weaving in and out of the throngs of people and stage crew bustling about behind the scenes of the concert. He nearly slipped once on the slick polished floors of the auditorium, but gracefully managed to recover his lost balance as he continued his race to the door marked 'Stage Entrance'.

Out of breath and glistening in sweat he burst through the door only to be confronted with three angry faces.

"Where have you been!?" the drummer demanded, about to give the tardy lead singer a piece of his mind when a booming voice announced the band to a crowd of screaming fans.

Matt's face fell in shame and sorrow filled eyes looked on as he watched his band mates fumbling towards the stage, forgetting their previous concerns with the truant bass player as the growing excitement of the crowd beckoned them. The lead guitarist stopped at the foot of the steps that lead to the platform overlooking thousands of excited teens.

"You coming Ishida?!" he hollered over the crowd who had begun to chant the band's name over and over in unison.

The blonde boy swallowed hard and nodded, stifling the eerie feeling that had begun to emerge from the depths of his stomach.

"Come on then! We're on!" the other boy said waving him to come forth.

Matt took a few shaky steps forward. This was the most nervous he had ever been before a show and he could not discern why. Once again he shrugged it off, emitting a deep sigh as if to cleanse his mind of unwanted thoughts as he ran up the steps after his band mate.

The drummer and keyboardist were already assembled and the moment Matt appeared the screaming masses went wild, unleashing an almost horrific noise as hands clapped, and voices rose considerably higher than they had been before.

Feeling rather embarrassed that he had missed their final sound check; Matt scurried across the stage and proceeded to plug his guitar into its respective amplifier. With a tug of his shirt collar and another deep breath, he made his way to the microphone.

Beads of perspiration trickled down his forehead, as the overhead lights glared down menacingly at him. Normally the excitement generated by his fans and the rush of energy of being onstage in front of thousands propelled him into a singing mode, but tonight was different.

Yamato seemed to be in a state of panic as he adjusted the microphone and he feared that if he were to open his mouth no sound would escape.

The other members of the band prepared themselves for their first set and were awaiting the blonde's cue, which seemed idle to come.

The lead guitar player finally glanced over at the blonde bassist who appeared paler than usual and shrugged his shoulders as if to say "Well?"  

Matt nodded in compliance and cleared his throat. Mustering up as much false enthusiasm as he was capable of he let loose with a well prompted "Is everyone ready to rock!?"

The blonde could feel the energy surging throughout the small auditorium as the crowd responded with a mighty roar of approval.

This brought the young bassist back into his element, and he turned to face his band members with a cocky grin.

"I dunno you guys?" he said, addressing his band, "Do they sound excited to you?"

A smile of satisfaction etched its way across the drummer's face as he recognized the Yamato he had known before the entire Murphy incident. The other band members noted this as well as their faces lit up at the lead singer's comment.

Matt turned back to the audience and unhooked the microphone from its stand. He casually walked over to the edge of the stage where he unexpectedly found all the older digidestined kids huddled at the forefront of people, trying their best not to get mauled by the many fan girls attempting to shove their way through the masses in order to catch a better glimpse of the rock star.

Joe was there, and standing on either side of him were Izzy and Sora. Even Mimi, who had just arrived at the airport only hours before was pumped and ready to cheer him on. Next to her stood his best friend, a certain person he had never been more grateful to see in his life.

"You da man Matt!" Tai cheered waving his fist in a circular motion. He could tell the blonde teenager needed all the encouragement he could get the moment he saw him set foot on the stage. Sora had also noticed his somewhat haggard appearance, and his hesitation to perform until he received threatening stares from his band mates. In fact, all the digidestined had voiced some kind of concern for him before he finally managed to get his act together. Now he seemed just fine, but Taichi knew better even if the other kids could not see through this façade.

Matt smiled in genuine disbelief. This had been the first time his friends had ever congregated at the front of the stage to see his show. Normally they sat back in the shadows and cheered him from a distance. It was a great comfort to the teenager to know his friends were not far off. It almost made up for the fact that his ailing brother had not been present for his performance.

With newfound confidence, Matt raised a fist in the air and shouted into the mic.

"I can't hear you!!!" he cried, thrusting the mic forward to capture the collaboration of voices that encompassed him as they shouted their rejoinder.

"Alright." Matt nodded with a smirk of contentment, seemingly pleased with the deafening response. "Sounds more like it." he said turning away from the throngs of fans as he strolled back over to the microphone stand and replaced the amplifying device.

"Let's GO!" he shouted, and with that the band broke into song. Each member played furiously on their instrument, concentrating all their energy into making the best possible sound they could.

The music rose in volume, sailing high into the rafters of the concert hall as an ocean of bodies moved back and forth vicariously to the beat.

Soon Matt's voice accompanied the tune, bringing unity to the entire piece, as if his influence were the key linking the melodious chain of sounds together

And as the song wound down to a close, another replaced it mere seconds later, bringing a sense of never-ending harmony to the crowd as they continued to be entranced by the music.

Whatever had been troubling Yamato before the show had been wiped clean from his mind throughout the duration of the performance. Somehow he had forgotten just about everything concerning that entire day. But the sense of euphoria was all too fleeting for the young musician as the band prepared to close.

He was supposed to cue them into the final song of the night, but something, or rather someone in the crowd had caught his attention. Whilst he waited for the band to finish up, Yamato scanned the audience. He relished in the smiling faces of his fans and grinned when his eyes fell upon his group of friends thoroughly enjoying the music. His eyes then darted to the corner of the auditorium where the guardrail ended. Once the concert had concluded, the band was to exit down the opposite side from whence they came, the only peculiarity however, was a large dark figure marring the way.

At first Yamato was convinced it had to be some sort of bodyguard to ensure their safe return to the backstage area, but upon further inspection he found that he recognized the sinister looking figure from somewhere before.

Immediately images from the past flooded through his system, causing him to clutch the microphone stand in apprehension. Matt blinked involuntarily as beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and into his eyes, burning them with relentless malice until he swiped at them with the back of his hand.

Perhaps it had been an illusion…a hallucination, his mind tried to reason as he looked again towards the man in the shadows squinting slightly as sweat threatened to obstruct his sight once again. This time it was unmistakable, his crystal blue orbs confirming his worst fears.

Yamato's breaths began to come in ragged gasps as he slowly backed away from the microphone. The other band members were too enthralled with their performance to even notice the lead singer edging his way off stage. A few fans brought their attention to his awkward movements to evade the spotlight, but paid it no heed, and assumed it was part of the show.

Out in the center of the stage, under the burning bright lights Matt felt very vulnerable. Despite the thousands of fans surrounding him, he felt very alone and waves of panic washed over his body, elaborating upon the need and desire to escape.

"Hey what's wrong with Matt you guys?" Sora asked, glancing over in the boy's direction with great concern written across her face.

Immediately the rest of the digidestined focused their attention on stage. 

"Matt?" Taichi said under his breath, his brow furrowing in both confusion and worry. The brunette's gaze was locked on the pale blonde who seemed to be disoriented as he backed away from the mic as if it were a venomous snake about to strike.

"Something must have alarmed him." Izzy proffered, suspiciously gazing around. "It's highly unlikely that Matt would leave during a performance for no apparent reason at all." The red-head continued, bringing his sights to the area in which Matt had been staring with wide-eyed disbelief.

"Do you think it was that large man?" Joe asked, covering his ears from the onslaught of screams erupting from the crowd as he pointed to the dark figure still lurking in the corner.

"What man?" Mimi asked, tugging at a lock of pink hair nervously. She had not wanted to get herself worked up on a false alarm, but was concerned for the well being of her friend and chanced a look to where Joe was indicating. 

"I highly suggest we investigate." The resident genius of the group advised.

"I say we call the police!" Mimi interjected.

"Let's not be too hasty. Remember how unstable Matt is right now. He's still going through a tremendous amount of…" Izzy's sentence was cut off as an angry Tai came to his friend's defense.

"He's not flipping out on us!" the boy stated, throwing Izzy a weak glare to get his point across without intimidating his friend.

"I didn't say he was…" the red head tried to explain, but was once again interrupted.

"Something's really wrong. He wouldn't just do this!" Tai argued, folding his arms indignantly. He believed Matt. It took quite a long time to establish the strong bond that had evolved into their friendship, and maybe that's why he could tell when the blonde was serious, and when his imagination had gotten the better of him. 

He had been there for him after the ordeal with Murphy. It was a little known fact that on the nights when Matt could not keep it together in order to comfort his brother, he had called Tai for moral support. There were numerous times when he had gone behind his parents' backs and left the house well after curfew to be of company to Matt when his father worked late. Tai was the only friend he could turn to because Tai was the only one who could possibly understand the reason for all his worries. It had not been his constant belief that Murphy was still alive somewhere, it had been the fact that his own brother had been subject to such violence, and only another 'older' brother could comprehend that horror. The idea that one day that same person might come back to cause more pain and suffering. Only Tai would be able to relate and that was why Matt had chosen him in the first place. Of course Kari knew of these late night journeys and her lips remained sealed. She hadn't even uttered a word to T.K. about them for fear of causing her friend more distress than was necessary.

None of his friends knew of the sacrifices and late nights he had put himself through to ensure his friend's sanity, and he was not about to dismiss this warning sign as some kind of anxiety attack or hallucination.

While the rest of the team discussed their game plan Tai's eyes remained fixated on his best friend. For the first time since their adventures in the digital world, Tai resorted to his old tactics, which led to the decision of getting to the bottom of Matt's strange behavior no matter what excuses his friends tried to impress upon him.

Without waiting for their decision, the brown-haired boy shoved his way through the crowd, determined to make it to the backstage area. If he could beat Matt there, then maybe he would be able to find out what had startled the youth, to frighten him so much that he would abandon his band during a gig.

"So it's agreed then." Sora confirmed, turning from the huddle of digidestined to inform Tai of their plan. Frantic eyes searched the sea of people as Sora realized their headstrong leader had vanished.

There he goes again, she thought, as Tai's reckless "shoot first, ask questions later" attitude reminded her of a time not so long ago when she used to become angry with him for rushing in so hastily, but now she placed a bit more faith in Tai's actions. Still she was curious as to which way the impatient boy had headed. Had he gone to deal with their mysterious stranger waiting in the shadows, or had he gone to find Matt?

Her eyes scanned the rows up and down, wondering what to prepare for, when she noticed a large mess of brown hair heading towards the backstage entrance of the auditorium.

"Okay Tai." She nodded understandingly. I just hope you know what you're doing, she silently prayed as she turned back to her comrades.

 "Come on you guys, let's go check this out." The auburn-haired girl said, appointing herself as their makeshift leader in Tai's absence.

"Right!" Mimi said with some hesitance. Although she had matured considerably since their exploits that fateful summer, she was still not one to throw herself into the line of fire unless there was something worth protecting, and at the moment the person worth protecting was vacating the premises. Besides that small detail, she had heard stories of Matt and T.K.'s captors, none of which she wished to hear again, nor did she ever want to encounter these evil men.

"It's okay Mimi, if you don't want to go you can stay here." Sora said, sensing Mimi's discomfort with the entire plan.

"She's right Mimi," Joe added, "We won't force you."

"N-No. It's okay." She nodded summoning her courage. "Let's go find that jerk!" she said, narrowing her eyes in disgust, as the four merged into the crowd.

End Note:  Would this be considered a cliff hanger?? *shrugs* R+R please! Comments, suggestions, and criticisms whatever ya wanna say, say it! I find far too many instances in which great fics don't get the feedback they deserve so I encourage it at all costs. ^_^


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